The Temporal Comedy: Ein Anderes Mal
by Angelique Sauvegarde
Summary: Nightcrawler and a certain former government agent have their own House of M adventures. M for mild language, violence, and adult situations.
1. Chapter 1

More of the usual disclaimer. I do not own any character except Kassandra, her side of the family, and a couple of insignificant background characters. I do not own the book Toxic In-laws (though I have found a copy pretty helpful in my case!). I do not own any other historical or cultural figure or Manhattan restaurant that you might come across in this story. I do not make any money off of my writing, and any and all of this is used with profound appreciation for all the source material I have used, and where relevant, its creators.

Any and all critique will be warmly received, and suggestions may very likely be implemented.

Chapter 1

Ein Anderes Mal

To: Was ist los.

_I sent Ororo all the information I could dig up those "Weaponeers" you've been dealing with. It isn't very much at this point. However, as the people I report to don't like them any more than you do, they're quite happy to let me help in this respect._

_Speaking of trouble on and around my home continent, I've been assigned a long-term mission in Genosha. And personally, I'd like it very much if, after dealing quickly and decisively with these Weaponeers, you could maybe hop over to Hammer Bay and meet me there._

Finally, if you haven't already, be sure to pop open an extra beer with Logan for me in memory of his old Avengers friends.

Ich vermisse dich noch immer.

-Zeitgeist

Kassandra clicked "send," logged off, then scooted her chair back and rose. She would have liked to write more, but she had a plane to board.

Six months later

The guards assigned to supervise Mutant Conscript #50471 were not at all thrilled with this latest mission. They might have been relieved that their charge had been taken off the X-23 assignment for the time being. That target was too much like a leaner, meaner version of Wolverine for their comfort. However, while their new target was not as likely to eviscerate any of them, she didn't seem any safer. Nor did the mutant whom they were supposed to supervise. Her cooperation seemed to have more to do with anything other than the program's best interest, and ever since the deaths of the Avengers, the operative code-named Zeitgeist had been acting more and more erratically. Something or someone, she warned her superiors, was disrupting her ability to use her powers as effectively. But as it tied in to what she was investigating, she would figure it out. And take care of it.

And so this investigation led to an old church, one of the few structures left even remotely standing in this perpetually bombed-out capital city. She would meet her target, confirm a few details, and hopefully lure this person out of the church. In the unlikely event it would come down to a more typical Weapon Plus operation, she did not want to violate that sanctuary… any further, she thought, as she looked over the ruin.

"Stay back and let me try to talk to her first, please," she said. "We'd like this done neatly and quietly, right?"

An easy request. They knew she wouldn't like this assignment and would prefer dealing with this target in her capacity as psychologist rather than assassin. But they could trust that she'd do whatever was needed. And just in case things got out of control the three guards could train their weapons on the target and the conscript alike through the blasted out windows easily enough. Kassandra vanished.

They could now see her blurry, transparent visage sitting in the front pew. Powered up, ready for anything.

"Hallo," she said, to no one they could see. "Wie gehts?…Ganz gestimmt…Ich bin Kassandra, eine Freundin von Logan… Ja, eine Psychologin… Ich will dir helfen. Erzähl mir alles. Was ist los?"

"Mein Gott! Charles darf nicht hierher kommen." Another wraith appeared with the guards, abject terror and confusion lending an edge to her whisper almost as sharp as that adamantium sword she'd been allowed to carry again. "Understand? This place stands at a juncture of opposing realities. It's highly unstable. I can barely stay grounded. Xavier must not come here! In fact, tell him to cease all contact with the Maximoffs, now."

What was she talking about? How information so far-fetched, so disjointed, obtained by apparently sitting there, talking only to herself be of any use? "Mir gefällt meine Existenz auch nicht, aber zumindest spiel ich nicht mit der Realität herum," continued the image sitting in the pew, in a gentle, almost tender voice. "Das ist nur zu wahr. Ich kann das nicht. Aber nur weil du es kannst, heißt das nicht, dass du das auch machen solltest."

"Warum?" shouted another wraith, standing with sword drawn, looking in an altogether different direction. "Nur Gott hat das Recht dazu und wir alle müssen mit den Folgen deiner Einmischung behandeln."

"Ich nie vergeße, und ich kann die Vergangenheit akzeptieren. Warum du nicht auch?" said the quiet image in the pew.

"Xavier's coming, verdammt! He's in danger here," whispered the wraith that stood with her guards. "Stop them!"

The guards exchanged puzzled glances. They each wondered how they were going to get this woman, or rather, her three wraiths, to power down and start talking sense without hurting her and drawing the ire of the mutant rights groups, when she was obviously raving. "I don't see any 'them,'" said one.

Another, who knew enough German to exchange occasional snatches of conversation with this lonely conscript, replied, "It seems her assignment finally got the best of her, in which case… oh, God!"

The realization just hit that a real extra-dimensional struggle could look very much like what they were witnessing. The sword-wielding wraith finally lunged, screaming in a voice that all too likely pierced dimensional boundaries and carried beyond the universe, "WAS BILDEST DU DIR EIN!"  
Apparently, any effort to do whatever she thought she needed to be done neatly and quietly wasn't working.

"Trank her! She's losing it!" barked the sergeant.

"Are you kidding? None of our best shots can get her like that!"  
"You got any better ideas?"  
And a fire a fire of tranquilizer darts, the wraiths vanished, and Zeitgeist hurtled, as if hurled by this sudden burst of white light, into the smoke-blackened wall.  
"We didn't do that, did we?" said one of the guards, gazing awestruck into the shadows.

"Get down! Someone else is in there now, though I'm damned if I know how they got there," said the sergeant. "Did you see them come in? Or you?"

Both of the other guards shook their heads, mystified.  
"At any rate, we'll have to retrieve her, quietly. What the-?" The white light began to grow. And intensify.  
"Oh, SH-!"  
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Translations:

"Wie gehts?…Ganz gestimmt…Ich bin eine Freundin von Logan, Kassandra… Ja, eine Psychologin… Ich will zu dich helfen. Erzähl mir alles. Was ist los?"

How's it going?... Agreed, totally... I am Logan's friend, Kassandra... Yes, a psychologist... I want to help you... Tell me all about it. What's the matter?

Charles darf nicht hierher kommen. -Charles must not come here.

Mir gefällt meine Existenz auch nicht, aber zumindest spiel ich nicht mit der Realität herumDas ist nur zu wahr. Ich kann das nicht. Aber nur weil du es kannst, heißt das nicht, dass du das auch machen solltest.

I also don't like my existence, but I don't mess with reality. That's true enough. I can't. But just because you can doesn't mean you should.

Warum? Nur Gott hat das Recht dazu und wir alle müssen mit den Folgen deiner Einmischung behandeln.

Why? Only God has that right, and we all must deal with the consequences of your meddling.

Ich nie vergeße, und ich kann die Vergangenheit akzeptieren. Warum du nicht auch? - I never forget, and I can accept the past. Why won't you?

WAS BILDEST DU DIR EIN! - Who do you think you are!


	2. Chapter 2

Wanda? Braddock? Saturnyne!

A fragrant and surprisingly warm early morning ocean breeze stirred the lace curtains over Kassandra's bed as the unhurried notes of an acoustic guitar fell like gentle raindrops on her sleepy consciousness. Her bed- not a hard bunk in a cold brig that, if it had a window above water, would have looked out onto war-ravaged ruins? And where did the music come from? She wasn't allowed a CD player. This had to be a dream perhaps brought on by that hard knock she took on the head last night. She pulled around her one of the precious few comforts she'd been allowed, a plush blue blanket Nightcrawler sent her for Christmas. And the blanket wrapped itself more tightly around her, pressing its soft warmth against her surprisingly bare flesh.

What? What happened to the itchy government-issue pajamas? And if it was one of those dreams, she didn't expect to be plagued with them. Shyness notwithstanding, she did not have many body consciousness issues. Anyway, where was the audience? Why did she feel relatively safe and content, rather than insecure and vulnerable?

"Shhhh, du träumst," the blanket murmured in a low, familiar voice. "_But how would you like to start the day,_ Liebchen?" Okay, that was just plain verrückt. Kassandra felt soft pressure settle on her hip. And an unfamiliar tightness around one of her fingers. Not one for jewelry, even if she was the daughter of a diamond heir and a Zulu tribeswoman, she almost never wore rings. Never on that finger, anyway!

The voice continued, attempting to sing along with the CD. "We could talk away the morning…." His Bavarian accent, coupled with the gentle delivery, made this otherwise goofy Frank Sinatra impression irresistibly endearing. The pressure took the shape of a familiar tridactyl hand and began to migrate slowly up, navigating the subtle curves of Kassandra's lean, modest form in languid, circular strokes. And what felt like another set of three long, thick fingers gently brushed her tangled, shoulder-length mess of dark curls away from her neck.

"…read the papers…"  
"Sein Händedruck, und- ach!- sein Kuss!" Kassandra thought to herself, as she felt the first of a series of kisses on her neck. She'd have to put away that blanket. It was giving her dreams that would only intensify by contrast the cold loneliness of her sentence, but still…

"… oder 'misbehave.'"  
"Mmmm…Kurt," said Kassandra, sleepily. His tail, which had been idly tracing its way up from her ankle, finally curled firmly around her thigh. She had never before had such a vivid dream that didn't leave her shaking and sweating in terror. This was almost as enjoyable for its novelty as well as for… the obvious reasons. Still, she muttered a weak protest. _"A good Catholic shouldn't entertain these thoughts."_

Kurt chuckled, gently turning Kassandra over. "Guten Morgen, Frau Darkhölme."

Kassandra's eyes flew open and about the room, resting briefly upon a photograph. Odd. She could not recall where or when it was taken at the moment. But Kurt stood behind her with an arm around her waist, all smiles. She could see a green bracelet tied around his wrist. She wore a plain black leather skirt, and a round hat that sat like a crimson halo upon her head- the isidwaba and isicholo of a Zulu bride. And an expression of happiness barely restrained by the desire to appear appropriately solemn. On her nightstand was a paperback copy of the book Toxic In-Laws. Then her eyes turned finally to Kurt, his smiling, tousled, early-morning charm everything she expected it to be, and more. Very real and apparently very much hers. Any protest that this must only be a dream died on her lips, happily smothered by his.

Kassandra could not think of any other way she'd rather be start the day, tasting his kisses, running her hands down his back, reveling in how paradoxically beautiful the firmness of his muscular physique under the softness of his velvety skin felt to her touch. But still, nothing about this felt quite right.

Kurt retreated. The way he felt his beloved wife's muscles tense beneath her own smooth, café au lait skin, quite the opposite of her usual response, and the confusion he could now see in her large deep brown eyes was indeed not right. Granted, things had been a bit awkward between them lately. They were only just getting accustomed to married life when a new assignment as well as the lure of living at least on the same hemisphere as Kassandra's mother and siblings induced them to pack and move across the globe to Hammer Bay. It was an ideal move, or so Kurt thought. Or it would be, anyway, if he and Kassandra could actually spend more time home together. Kurt and his mother, whom he still hoped might warm to his new bride, still worked together as special operatives in the elite mobile unit of the Red Guard and was often out on one mission or another. Kassandra, on the other hand, earned a commission answering directly to the royal family, and had, in her short time on that job, also earned the personal confidence of the princesses.

Together she and Kurt bought a nice, modest house on a bluff overlooking a stretch of beach where Kassandra liked to jog or take Kurt for long strolls. The house was just big enough for them, Kassandra's piano, a couple rooms they set aside for when they'd have children, and a large, deep walkout basement they'd already turned into a miniature danger room. Of course, they had access to the training facilities the palace and SHIELD had to offer. But for reasons so obvious the couple never had to speak of them, they both preferred to work out in the privacy of their own home whenever possible. It was also near enough to church, the palace, and the new SHIELD headquarters, which was important not only because Kassandra hated to drive, but because they also could be called in to work in literally a moment's notice.

They had all the best this life could offer, and yet Kassandra still was not content. Nobody could understand why. None of the many possible explanations seem to quite cover it. She and Kurt both guessed that it was due in part to when she took out that anti-mutant cult in Montana a few months before their wedding. Though she'd won medals for her bravery and leadership, which she would only bring out at the royal family's command, she'd seemed a bit traumatized afterward. That was understandable. Given Kassandra's background, she was actually quite sympathetic toward non-mutants, so naturally having to kill so many, even when they were shooting at her, would not sit well with her. And these suspicious nightmares and waking terrors that had plagued her ever since had been driving her a bit to distraction. Kurt felt awful that, as wonderful as their life was, there was nothing, not even taking a permanent position at headquarters, he could do to ensure her complete happiness, and she knew it. Kurt guessed that this was the reason for the emotional distance that Kassandra was beginning to display.

_"How long have I been your wife?"_ she asked. She had great difficulty referring to herself as Frau Darkhölme. Of course she would be proud to add Kurt's name to her own, but since when did he go by… by that woman's name?

Questions like that coming from her meant either that she was teasing, or, most likely, especially based on her reactions and the talking in her sleep, she had just had another one of those dreams, and needed some gentle reorientation. He propped himself up on one elbow, softly caressing her neck and shoulder with one hand and her leg with the spade of his tail. _"Three wonderful months and the dawning your last chance to rest before the festivities. Our first real day off together since-"_

_"I have to get to Mass!"_  
Kurt looked at her with increasing concern. As much as he liked waking his wife to that song any day of the week, he realized that "It's Sunday" wouldn't help on a rare weekday morning off if things like this kept happening. "Es ist Donnerstag. _St. Marcella's doesn't have Mass on Thursdays any more, remember? Though you did have choir practice last night_."

Last night. The church. Yes, Kassandra remembered something about that last night. Still disturbing. It was never like her to forget.

"Ist alles in Ordnung?" said Kurt.  
Kassandra sighed, feeling her focus on the here and now improving as she drew closer and wrapped her free leg around Kurt's. "Ja. Danke. _And I think you're right. I do need to talk to someone… someone else about- about what I'd been seeing. I'm tired of this confusion, and I don't want this to interfere any more._ Aber jetzt, Ich vermute ein Bißchen 'misbehavior' konnte in Ordnung sein."

"Bist du sicher?" Kurt asked.  
Kassandra nodded.

Kurt smiled. "Nur ein Bißchen? Das wird schwierig sein."  
"Gestimmt!" Kassandra laughed, twining her legs around Kurt's waist as she found herself quite blissfully entangled in his arms and tail.

They spent the next hour simply enjoying each other that way. And if their coming together was any less momentous than the union of time and space itself, Kassandra did not want to know.

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Translations:

du träumst- you're dreaming

Sein Händedruck, und- ach!- sein Kuss! - more Goethe poetry that will only be mangled in the translation, from Gretchen's spinning wheel scene in Faust. "The pressure of his hands, and -oh!- his kiss!"

Aber jetzt, Ich vermute ein Bißchen 'misbehavior' konnte in Ordnung sein. - (roughtly) But now, I suppose a little misbehavior could be all right.

Bist du sicher? - Are you sure?  
Nur ein Bißchen? Das wird schwierig sein. - Only a little? That will be difficult.


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt looked upon Kassandra, his golden eyes in no hurry to cease making love to her even after the rest of his body was well spent. She had just pulled on a pink tracksuit and tied her hair back into a loose ponytail. "Laufst du jetzt? Didn't you just get a good workout?"

"Du bist immer wilkommen, mit mir zu kommen," said Kassandra, leaning over to lightly graze Kurt's lips with her own.

"Ja doch." Kurt drew Kassandra into a much deeper kiss before letting her go. Persuading her to stay and knuddeln some more would not be difficult. But she could be if she skipped her mile-a-day minimum. "I'll be right behind you."

"Das ich will gern sehen." Kassandra smiled, dodging a tridactyl blue hand aimed for her rear, then disappeared.

"Ach, solche Dreistigkeit!" Kurt threw on some sweats and scrambled out after her, deftly avoiding stumbling over his pants as he hastily pulled them up. Perhaps he had some energy left for a jog after all.

Kassandra was glad she got a good head start on Kurt. She needed just a moment to think. Just what would she, could she, tell anyone about these dreams, visions, whatever they were? Were these glimpses into another reality mere reflections of her difficulties adjusting to a happy, if not entirely perfect, new life? Kassandra hoped so. Even at her best, she did not handle alternate realities well. The ability to see and control the timelines within one reality could overwhelm her, physically and mentally, if she wasn't careful, even with her healing factor. And rare glimpses into parallel universes, such as what she'd seen upon her first encounter with the beings some called the Celestials, tended to leave her disoriented, even, on occasion, to the point of doubting her sanity. Of course this helped her relate when Brian Braddock requested her counseling after his own tumble through time. Wait- when had she ever counseled the King of England? When had any of that happened?

At any rate, her ability to return to her place within time depended very much on being solidly grounded in one reality. And yet lately, she'd been seeing events from alternate timelines in her sleep as well as whenever she stepped outside of time- one past in each of two different realities for each person whose timelines she might try to read. And she could not shut it out. She had seen things like this before in the fractured timelines she observed when studying disassociative disorders or cases of total amnesia. No, that had to be in her own other reality, nicht wahr? She was no psychologist. Or was she? There was no sense in delaying another day, Kassandra decided. She'd call Professor Xavier immediately after breakfast.

Verdammt, not again! Who was this Xavier? Cassandra Web could handle this sort of thing. Oh, that's right. She said, despite symptoms similar to generalized anxiety or something like that, nothing was wrong. How about Dr. Strange? But the only Xavier Kassandra ever knew about died in the revolution before she was even born…nicht wahr?

Ah, well. If she could indeed see into another reality in which she was a psychologist, maybe she could take a thorough look and figure out a thing or two. "Gemütarzt, heilt dich," she thought to herself.

Kurt scrambled down the bluff. He even skipped using the long staircase that wound its way downward, as was his habit. It might have been quicker and easier to teleport down to the beach, but he preferred climbing anyway. Plus, he reasoned, it wouldn't make any difference how quickly he could get there. He would catch up with Kassandra only if she wanted him to.

And apparently she did. No sooner had his hands and feet hit the sand in his own unique running stride than he skidded to a halt.

"KURT!" A tearful, terror-stricken, breathless Kassandra appeared before him, running hell for leather, sweat and tears coursing down her face, allowing him just enough time to stagger upright before she barreled into his arms, knocking him over.

Kurt clutched her firmly until the racking, consuming sobs subsided, struggling to will his own alarm at this outburst into submission. "Kassandra, meine Liebste, was ist los?"

"Kurt, ich sehte…" Kassandra gulped. "Ich sehte ein anderes mal, eine andere Realität. Es ist kein Traum! Ich bin sicher!"

Kurt took a deep breath, then brushed away Kassandra's tears. A lifetime being raised by none other than Raven Darkhölme on a steady diet of war stories, groomed for nothing other than a career ensuring that mutants would remain forever victorious had not prepared him very well for showing compassion in others' moments of weakness. Nonetheless, this tender little gesture came surprisingly naturally to him. Perhaps it was something about Kassandra, or more likely the fact that married life necessitated it, that brought this out in him. His mother could complain all she wanted. And she did, frequently, about how he married a mutant raised among and identifying with- oh, the horror- flatscans! He felt he was a stronger man for this, regardless. "Kassandra, alles ist in Ordnung…"

"Nein, Kurt," she said. "Alles ist nicht in Ordnung. _Ever get the feeling like this… this existence is too good to be real?_"

"Ja doch. Immer," said Kurt warmly. He then quickly apologized as Kassandra's face clouded over again even more ominously. There was just no humoring her, especially when she was in that mood. "Es tut mir leid, Liebste. _But whether or not any of this is too good to be true, now's probably not the best time to worry about that, nicht wahr_?"

Kassandra nodded slowly, trying her hardest to pull herself together. Kurt had always been patient with her and her idiosyncrasies, as she had to be with him and the attitudes his mother tried in vain to impart to him, but she knew better than to take that for granted. Nobody she knew of who went by the name Darkhölme regarded tolerance for any kind of frailty a virtue. "I think it would be better to discuss this over breakfast, anyway."

"Gut," said Kurt. "_Care for a port up? You look like you've already run much more than your usual mile_."

"_Well_…" Kassandra smiled again at last, threading her fingers through the lank indigo waves that Kurt had finally succeeded in growing out. "_I was warned about accepting teleports from strange men,_ und…"

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Translations:

Laufst du jetzt?- Are you running now?

Du bist immer wilkommen, mit mir zu kommen. - You are always welcome to come with me.

Das ich will gern sehen. - That I will like to see.  
solche Dreistigkeit!- such insolence!  
Gemütarzt, heilt dich- Mind doctor, heal yourself.

Ich sehte ein anderes mal, eine andere Realität. Es ist kein Traum! Ich bin sicher! - I saw another time, another reality. It's no dream! I'm sure!


	4. Chapter 4

After a quick shower, abbreviated only because their appetite for food, at the moment, anyway, exceeded even their appetite for each other, and because they had the potatoes boiling and didn't want them to overcook, Kurt and Kassandra happily busied themselves in the kitchen. Kassandra started the coffee and beat the eggs, observing Kurt at work with a smile. "Ich denke dass, der Speck bereit ist," Kurt said, handing, or rather, tailing her the spatula while he continued slicing the potatoes, onions and tomatoes and cubing the ham.

Helping Kurt preparing a large Bauernfrühstück as only he would was exactly what Kassandra needed. A little fun, and continuing the flirting that began again with mischievous glances in the shower, would make it easier when they finally sat down to go over this dreadful bit of news. Kassandra carefully transferred the crisp brown bacon to a paper towel, then, hot pad and frying pan in hand, began to drain the fat. "Achtung," she said, feeling his tail curl around her waist. "Das ist heiß."

"Ganz bestimmt." Kurt grinned, the flat spade of his tail patting her on the rear as she set the pan back down on the stove and poured in the eggs.

Kassandra gasped in mock indignation, though the flush whipped to her cheeks was genuine. In any reality she'd care to be in, she could expect no less from breakfast with Herr Wagner… Herr Darkhölme… Kurt. At any rate, now the eggs, mixed up with everything else, had set. Kurt dished up the food then grabbed the newspaper, and Kassandra poured out the coffee- black for Kurt, sugar for her. They pulled up their bistro stools, and after giving their thanks, began to eat.

For a while, they said nothing. While neither of them even pretended to be excellent cooks, helping each other in the kitchen was fun. And more often than not, they didn't have to depend on the appetites their work and, in Kurt's case, living mostly on commissary food had given them to help then clear their plates.

"So," said Kurt, "_the dream- or whatever you saw last night- was it the same as the others?_"

"Die anderen?" said Kassandra, somewhat confused.  
"_You know, you in a brig on board an aircraft carrier, Hammer Bay still in ruins, sentinels still targeting mutants, white lights and black walls_…"

"Ja," Kassandra sighed, getting her bearings again.  
"_This alternate reality is not a very pleasant one_, nicht wahr?"

"Im Moment, nein," said Kassandra. "_And I realized that solving this problem will not be as simple as keeping me grounded in this reality. The reason why I can even see this other one is not just because they're connected somehow, but… but Kurt, remember Madame Web's diagnosis?_"

"_She said you didn't need any adjustment._ Warum? _Do you think you do?_"

"_Well_," said Kassandra, choosing her words carefully, "_Would you believe I'm a criminal psychologist in that other reality? Anyway, it's a difficult thing, assessing my own condition based on knowledge I never had in this reality. I'll need to consult another professional to confirm or debunk my suspicions once and for all._"

"_You've already seen the best in Genosha and within SHIELD. Who do you have in mind now?_"

"Stephen Strange," replied Kassandra. "_I know, it may mean a trip back to New York, but_…"

"…_but if the man on psychiatry's cutting edge says you're not crazy, Mama will have one less reason to bug me about marrying you, and that can only be a good thing,_" said Kurt.

Kassandra rolled her eyes. "_Speaking of that,_" she said, pointing to a pertinent blurb on the television schedule, "_They're actually going to air Alison Blair's interview with Princess Ororo here tonight._"

Ah, yes, the other reasons Mystique disapproved of Kurt's marital selection. Sure, popping a brain stitch or two was nothing to be ashamed of. It happened quite frequently among all the SHIELD ranks. But a son who'd choose to marry someone, knowing full well she had only one foot in reality, was a different matter. And then there were the political differences. Kassandra's devotion to and upbringing with her non-mutant family contributed to some ideas even more radical than the views aristocrats from Kenya and England were beginning to express, some of which were rubbing off on that far too sensitive son of hers. And then as if that wasn't enough to guarantee discord, the royal family decided her sympathy for the human cause specifically qualified Kassandra for a special commission to oversee all their security. Still, Mystique would never trust Kassandra. Kurt put those thought out his mind. He smiled. "_I suppose you'll want me to watch that with you, nicht wahr?_"

"Nein, danke," Kassandra smiled. "_I already know what she said. She kind of skipped over a few issues, and that alliance with Emperor Sunfire raises some very disconcerting questions anyway._"

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Kurt did not often get to visit Darkhölmberg, his mother's estate in Bavaria. Mama felt that the non-mutant servants and caretakers at the castle resented her since royal fiat directly from Hammer Bay itself decreed that she would inherit everything from her late, titled husband, the Baron Wagner. Unfaithful though she was, she was nonetheless his wife. And a heroine in the mutant revolution, though merely being a mutant in this new world where mutants in general, and Eric Magnus Lehnsherr in particular, reigned supreme was enough to ensure she'd get preferential treatment over the Baron's relatives. And the right to change the name of the castle.

But, though they'd been spending more of their time in the States lately, Mama decided it was important to go back and show Kurt's newly adopted sister Anna Marie the old family estate. It was nice returning. He did enjoy hiking through the Alps, though Mama was not at all keen on letting him venture out on his own. Sneaking over to the church and visiting Schwester Maria Boniface was always pleasant. Mama was, of course, even less tolerant of that, dismissing anyone, mutant or otherwise, who subscribed to religion as an evolutionary throwback. And occasionally seeing Der Jahrmarkt was a cause for mixed emotion, mostly celebration. Mama nearly had a coronary once when she caught him imitating the aerialists, until she noticed he seemed to have much more than just a knack for it. That marked the end of his boyhood, such as it was, and the beginning of his training among the Hellions, eventually to enlist in one of SHIELD's special forces units. He still loved the circus, and he had resolved to see it again when he had the chance. But, as he strolled down the midway with Anna Marie, toward a knot of people that weren't moving with the general flow of the crowd, he had the feeling that this would not be just another harmless day's fun.

"Kurt," said Anna Marie, as the knot erupted in malicious laughter, "Ah don't much lahk the sound of that. What're they sayin'?"

"Warum ist eine Schwarze sapien hier, anstatt im Museum mit den Neandertalern?" one boy yelled.

"Sorry?" said Kurt. While his English was good, it was still nonetheless the English equivalent of Hochdeutsch. Anna Marie drawled almost exclusively in some heavy American Dialekt, and he still wasn't completely used to that. "Oh, nothing you'd want me to translate."

"Warum beweisen Sie nicht, das Sie wirklich sind homo superior," retorted an indignant feminine voice, "und lassen mich alleine?"

At that, all laughter ceased. "Wie unklug von dir, in diesem Ton zu Wesen zu sprechen die dir genetisch doch weit überlegen sind!"

Anna Marie didn't need to know German to understand that meant trouble. "Uh-oh."

Kurt cleared his throat, edging past Anna Marie to see, to his horror, a girl thrashing, suspended in the grip of the four thick, ten-foot long tentacles one boy had for arms. Even if this wasn't a mutant, Kurt had to respect her wit- and courage. And quite frankly, he and Anna Marie both tended to be rather embarrassed by mutants who'd amuse themselves by tormenting those weaker than themselves. This one looked only about fourteen, fifteen at most. Maybe younger, though it was hard to tell, as she was quite small. "_The lady has a point,_" he said, tail lashing, fangs bared.

All eyes turned to him. Even though the previous generation had fought a long, bloody war, the end of which Kurt was barely old enough to remember, established a society where people like him could walk about freely in public without fear, many people, including fellow mutants, found his blue, tailed, fanged appearance quite intimidating. Kurt was grateful that Mama had taught him how to put that to good use. The bullies immediately stepped back in alarm, their would-be human piñata dropping to the ground. The girl seemed to vanish upon landing. Kurt's mind worked quickly. She looked like she might be a good runner and could have darted out of there easily, but they didn't seem to nor needed to know. "Sie entlauftet sehr schnell, was? Haben Sie, Herren, bedacht, dass sie ein Mutant sein könnte, trotz ihrer Erscheinung?"

With that, he teleported himself and Anna Marie out, hoping he'd left those bullies with enough to think about while he tried to find and catch up with the girl. Her dark appearance and accent made it pretty clear that, no matter how well she spoke the language, she was not from Germany. If she really wasn't a mutant, well, Kurt had heard about times when society as a whole felt threatened by mutants. Some of his own first memories were about rarely being allowed outside or near windows. He did not like to see anyone being given legitimate cause for such fear. Anyway, someone should apologize on behalf of perhaps a couple groups of people, or at least ask if she was okay.

"Kurt, ich bin hier. Mach schnell." The voice came from almost directly overhead. Kurt looked up, into the branches of a sycamore tree, and could barely make out the girl's frightened face, peering down among the leaves. Whatever had happened, however she got up into that tree, she did not look at all well. Her eyes, lids aflutter, suddenly rolled back into her head.

Mein Gott! Kurt teleported up, landing perfectly perched, and grabbed the girl before she could topple over. "Bleib bei mir," he said, holding her inert body as securely as he could, his tail wrapped firmly around the branch. "Ich hab dich."

"Kurt?" said Anna Marie.  
"It's all right, I've got her," he said. "Go ahead and save me a seat- and you might want to take your gloves off if you have to deal with those Schweinehunde again."

"Ya don' have to tell me twahce," said Anna Marie, peeling off her gloves as she strolled toward the big top. "Dam' morons don' know how to pick on someone their own sahze? They'll get what's comin'."

The girl stirred in Kurt's arms. "Kurt…" she said faintly.  
"Was ist los? _And how did you know my name?_"  
"Ich weiß nicht," said the girl. "_I don't know how any of this happened. I just wanted everything to stop, and that's what it felt happened. Everything stopped. And then I just knew I could talk to you, but… but why did you bring up the possibility of my being a mutant?_"

"Bist du?" said Kurt.  
"Macht es einen Unterschied?" she said, pointedly.

"_You're right. It shouldn't matter. And it doesn't to me_," said Kurt, trying not to sound defensive.

"Gut," said the girl, "_because where I'm from, these things matter far too much_."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The stories about human rights violations on the southern end of Africa were almost universally dismissed as highly exaggerated accounts from non-mutant malcontents. Kurt knew better. While Mama had stories about mutants victimized by mob violence, Kassandra had stories of every non-mutant in her home city of Keetmanshoop being dispossessed of their homes and livelihoods, rounded up, and forcibly relocated to Tseiblaagte Township. How her only options throughout her childhood were to keep her own mutation quiet as long as possible and grow up in squalor, or be separated from her family to be raised by "better" people. How her mother, in an effort to combat the diseases that ran rampant there, had to study medicine in an old underground SWAPO training center, with the help of some wealthy foreigners and one or two sympathetic mutants. How her father died while smuggling medical supplies into the township. How families such as hers used their life savings to go on genealogical tours, hoping to perhaps improve their social standing with some evidence of mutant ancestry. How only when Kassandra revealed she was a mutant were her family's considerable mining assets restored.

So while Mama and Kassandra had been oppressed by different groups, they had pretty much all the worst in common. They both grew up among non-mutants, fearful, albeit for opposite reasons, of revealing their true selves, and they both bore some pretty deep scars as a result.

"_I'll begin with the good news about this other reality I've been seeing, Liebster, such as it is,_" said Kassandra, looking up from her coffee. "_I still love you, James is still your best friend and isn't involved with your mother, and speaking of her, after seeing what she's like in this other reality, I think I have less excuse to dislike who she is here and now._"

"_What did she do?_" said Kurt wondering just how Kassandra could think any less of her mother-in-law.

"_Only tried to kill you two or three times, the first time by dropping you off a cliff when you were a newborn_."

Kurt tried hard not to choke on his coffee. "_I can see why that reality would upset you._"

"_It's not just that reality that's upset me_, Liebster," said Kassandra, all seriousness completely restored. "_I traced back the origin- the real origin of this temporal double vision._ Und, es tut mir leid, ich kann nicht sagen, _but this is going to cause us far more trouble in the near future_."

"_Trouble as in…_"  
"Kurt, _you know I do not fear the end of the world. But it's a different matter if a person's carelessness rather than the course of nature in God's own time is responsible_."

Kurt looked stunned. "_I think maybe we shouldn't wait to get you through to Dr. Strange. I mean, I believe you, but_…"

"_But this is hard news indeed._ Ja," said Kassandra.  
"_And I'm sure he'd clear some time in his schedule for the General of the Royal Secret Service_, nicht wahr? _We could have you in New York tomorrow_."

Kassandra nodded. Tomorrow, or perhaps even sooner would be all right. "_Meanwhile, you had the right idea. I'll get that appointment, but we still have some time before it all hits the fan. I think we should enjoy it._"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Translations:

Ich denke dass, der Speck bereit ist. - I think the bacon is ready.

Das ist heiß.- That's hot.

Warum ist eine Schwarze sapien hier, anstatt im Museum mit den Neandertalern? - Why is a Black sapien here, instead of in the museum with the Neanderthals?

Warum beweisen Sie nicht, das Sie wirklich sind homo superior, und lassen mich alleine? - Why don't you all prove that you really are homo superior, and leave me alone?

Wie unklug von dir, in diesem Ton zu Wesen zu sprechen die dir genetisch doch weit überlegen sind! - (very roughly) How unwise of you to speak in this tone to your genetic superiors.

Sie entlauftet sehr schnell, was? Haben Sie, Herren, bedacht, dass sie ein Mutant sein könnte, trotz ihrer Erscheinung? - She ran very fast, didn't she? Have you, gentlemen, considered that she might be a mutant, despite her appearance?

Macht es einen Unterschied? - Does it make any difference?  
ich kann nicht sagen - I can't say


	5. Chapter 5

And so while Kurt cleared the table and loaded the dishes into the washer, Kassandra was busy on the phone and computer. Proof that even when Kurt was on shore leave, Kassandra's days off could sometimes be anything but came in the form of a phone call. From England.

Braddock Manor. Jamie Braddock, the poor, mad brother of the King, doing his level best to hold it together, against Saturnyne, dead set on erasing it before everything would prematurely unravel. Was! Where were these thoughts coming from?

"General Darkhölme?" The cockney accent on the other end brought her back to reality.

Focus, Kassandra! "Hallo, Agent Wisdom. How can I help?"

The gala in honor of 30 years of mutant rule would be in two days, Lord Magnus' birthday celebration tomorrow evening, and if Kassandra was going to be in New York tomorrow, it meant things like coordinating with the security details guests like King T'Challa, Victor von Doom, and Princess Ororo would bring, needed to be done now, before she left for New York. Complicating things further was a perceived terror threat against Braddock Manor, where the King and Queen of England hoped to host the birthday festivities. Add to that the fact that Princess Wanda had been feeling a bit unwell and wasn't sure she'd be up to traveling anyway. It took some finagling, but in the end it was agreed that the English royal family would hold their festivities as planned, but the House of Magnus and all dignitaries specifically invited by them would celebrate in their home court. "And of course," said Kassandra, "we'll stay connected… Good point there. I'll send over a sentinel. You will run into some dimensional trouble afterward… no, I can't make any sense of it yet, but I'll try to help in my own way. But really, I don't see any substantial terror threat… Nothing that can withstand the Marauders' customary overreaction… You'll be fine."

With an aggravated sigh Kassandra finally got of the phone, logged off the computer, and scooted her chair back. "_I was not commissioned to be a party planner,_" she groaned.

Kurt dried his hands, walked over, and, before Kassandra could rise, began to rub her shoulders. "Um was ging ist den?"

"_The birthday party and that _verdammte _gala_." She leaned back, this time with a contented sigh. She couldn't help herself. It seemed there was no annoyance, not even her irritation at how society regarded the anniversary of one kind of apartheid changing over to another as something worth celebrating, that couldn't be dissolved at least temporarily by one of his backrubs. "Mmmm… Kurt, _you just washed the dishes. I should be rubbing your shoulders_."

"Nun gut, Liebling," said Kurt, clearly enjoying the response he was getting. "_So I washed the dishes. You've got a hard couple days work ahead of you, and someone has to make an attempt at cleaning that bedroom,_ nicht wahr?"

Kassandra chortled in response as she got up got to work. There were a couple of rooms in their house, the cleaning of which could be more accurately described as damage control. The bathroom, for instance, was pretty well dominated by the myriad of products Kassandra needed just to be able to keep her hair somewhat manageable. Containing the reams of sheet music that tended to accrue in the living room was an ongoing challenge. Drains and the dryer vent constantly collected blue lint. And as long as the big, fuzzy blue id that was her husband was home from his various Red Guard deployments, the bedroom tended to be a wreck. Still, none of that posed any problem, and while other things might interfere with the day Kassandra had in mind, this wouldn't. In an instant, the room was more or less back in order, the sheets were changed, and the washer began humming with a load of laundry. Kassandra hoped to get in a little piano practice before the spin cycle began.

The phone rang. Kurt answered it. Kassandra knew, but was thankful all the same, that he would. He took the phone out to the front porch while Kassandra began her scales. Perfect. Kassandra then spread out a few pages of hand-scrawled sheet music. She didn't recall seeing it before, yet recognized the hand in which the notes were penciled, erased, and rewritten. Her own. Apparently a work-in-progress, a solo piano arrangement of Faure's "Après un Reve."

She read over it, tried playing it, then erased and scribbled a few more notes before playing through it again. Kurt rushed back in, obviously with something to say, then stopped in his tracks. The way he stood, eyes half shut, tail dropped, his hair and the blue nap of his skin almost visibly prickling as the melody washed over him, yes, that was the reaction she wanted.

"Aah, sehr schön," Kurt breathed when the piece drew softly to its conclusion.

"Danke," said Kassandra, blushing. While she appreciated the praise, and while she could admit she was content with the arrangement as it was, something was still missing. "_But I think I'll need to work on it later. Meanwhile, what was that about?_"

"_Princess Wanda_," said Kurt, locking the front door, "_decided it might do her some good to get some fresh air and take her children to the park. She decided to invite us along. I did not ask why_."

Kassandra closed the piano, put away her music, then crossed the room to Kurt. "_She wants the princes to enjoy a normal childhood without being constantly surrounded by the palace guard. To them, lately anyway, I'm just the friend Mama likes to have around on their outings_."

"Ich verstehe," Kurt laughed, "_But anyone who tries to make trouble for them would have another thing coming. I see now. Anyway, I said we'd meet them after we get changed, if that's all right with you._"

"Das ist gut so, Kurt." Kassandra smiled, threading her arms around his waist. "_But I think this is an occasion for casual clothes. And I take it we'll go by teleport?_"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Translation:

Um was ging ist den? - (roughly) What's it about?


	6. Chapter 6

Something like a sharp intake of air with the depth of a muffled sonic boom startled the palace guard to full attention. Lieutenant Eileen Harsaw, immediately recognizing the teleportation signature and who came through, called for attention. They turned and presented arms. Kassandra blushed furiously as she emerged. She was by no means used to receiving such displays of respect, especially when she was not in full uniform. On the other hand, making sure others got due respect posed no difficulty. She smiled, she and Kurt both snappily touching their brows as they strolled past.

The delight Kassandra seemed to take in acknowledging the salutes of some of the guards, Private Allerdyce in particular, was not lost on Kurt. Neither was the sharpness her smile took lost on anyone else as Princess Wanda entered the foyer, basket under her arm. She dropped to her left knee, scanning to make sure the others did likewise- without the rolled eyes and snideness Lord Magnus was concerned were being directed toward this most different of his children.

Her Royal Highness was rather pleased that before all the craziness, pomp and circumstance of the next couple days, she could take a day to just be the Wanda she wanted to be. As chaotic as her life felt, she enjoyed at least control over this much; nothing would interfere with her happiness today. "Kassandra, you're here! Hello, Kurt."

"Good afternoon, Madam," they said.  
"Kassi!" A pair of rambunctious five year olds exploded into the foyer.  
"Thomas, Tyler," said their mother, "please remember your manners."  
"Oh."  
"Right."

Then in singsong unison, accompanied by a couple of awkward bows and their mother's graceful courtesy, "Good afternooooon, General, Agent Dark Home."

"Good afternoon, Your Highnesses," said Kurt and Kassandra, trading surreptitiously merry smirks before rising.

The boys giggled. To them, play dates were serious business, not this stiff formality, and they were glad to see that their guests recognized that.

"Relax, Kassandra," said Wanda, as they strode out the door. "This is still technically your day off, right? Try to enjoy it."

"That won't be too difficult," said Kassandra, smiling as Kurt had already taken off, loping ahead of the boys in an apparent race to the playground.

"Hey! Running like that's cheating!" the boys yelled, redoubling their efforts to keep up.

"How about the way your Uncle Pietro runs, then?" said Kurt, jovially, slowing down and resuming an upright walk. "Is that cheating?"

"Yeah. Well, except when he races Kassi."  
"Oh, really? Why is that?" said Kurt.  
"'Cause he never wins."  
"Nu-uh! He won, like, twice-"  
"The no-powers race? That doesn't count. That was boring."  
"And when he ran over the water and Kassi had to swim?"  
"Meine Herren, may I suggest a race to the jungle gym?"

Wanda smiled as the children scrambled after Kurt. "Kurt seems to enjoy being around the children."

"He does," Kassandra concurred smiling as Kurt put on an entirely unconvincing show of reluctance at being conscripted into the boys' pirate crew.

"You thinking of having any anytime soon?" said Wanda.  
The thought of having a baby- of having Kurt's baby- and everything related to that made Kassandra blush as she helped set out the picnic. "You sound like my sister-in-law. 'So when are you going to get some cousins for my kids?'" She then surprised herself by adding, "At this point, we'd be happy to welcome a child, but… I really think we should wait until the gala is over before we consider trying in earnest."

"I suppose you should wait until that stress is out of the way, yes. Speaking of that- no, I promised this wouldn't be work related- I hear your family sent their regrets and won't be able to attend." Wanda accepted Kassandra's help in setting out the lunch.

"That's right." Kassandra sighed, the thought of Kurt impregnating her, or at least trying as only he would, now shoved to the back burner as less pleasant thoughts claimed her attention. "While I appreciate that your father finally recognized and has made some effort against the problems over there-"

"Kassandra, you know you don't need to sugarcoat the truth around me. Remember, things began to improve for your family and your hometown when you started speaking up."

"This improvement has not been consistent. I'm afraid, for all the good things your father has done lately he can't do enough to check the racism and paranoia of Governor de Slegte. As sympathetic as Princess Ororo may be to us, she is largely unaware of the extent of our problems, and she's too proud to listen to your father or brother, even when she may agree with them. So the governor gets away with pretty much whatever he wants. Mention that human rights activists are acting up somewhere in the world, and he slaps travel restrictions on the baseline population. He wouldn't even make an exception when I called him personally and reminded him that my family was personally invited by your father!"

"Oh, wow," said Wanda a little bit overwhelmed. "I'm so sorry to hear that. But this should help raise awareness, right?"

Kassandra nodded.  
"Great. I'll tell Daddy all about it, and we'll see what we can do. Meanwhile, what do you plan on wearing?"

"Do we have to talk about that?" groaned Kassandra.

Wanda laughed. "Kassi, I swear you're as bad as the boys. I bet you hadn't even thought of it, have you?"

"No, I haven't. I mean, what's to think about? I figured I'd just wear the royal guard dress uniform."

"Kassandra, you can't!" Wanda exclaimed. "Your family has been invited as guests. That includes you, right? So even if they can't attend and you are on duty, you should at the very least wear your mess uniform. Full mess uniform, and you know what that means."

"Oh, nein," groaned Kassandra. That uniform was heavy, restrictive, altogether difficult to wear. Occasions that called for it usually involved those embarrassing moments when the royal family wanted to trot her out, further burdened under the full weight of her various and sundry military decorations and insignia. And she was beginning to feel more and more like token proof of just how tolerant the government could be of political dissent.

"Kassi," said Wanda, "I'm making this request as your friend. You are one of all too few people around here that respects my rank, but I still won't like it if I have to pull that on you."

"Very well," said Kassandra, taking consolation in how wearing that verdammtes thing tended to result in Kurt reacting with almost equal desperation to get her out of it.

"Lunch!" the boys cried, running to the table.  
Tyler scrambled into Kassandra's lap, deciding to amuse himself by meticulously coiling one of her curls around his finger before turning to his mother. "Oh, Mommy, did you see what Thomas made?"

"Hier, Madam, allow me," said Kurt, taking over setting out the sandwiches so the ladies could attend to the children.

"No," said Wanda. "What is it?"  
"I made a pirate ship," said Thomas, proudly holding up his creation, "for Grandpa."

"Ach, du Liebe," Kassandra chuckled. While Lord Magnus welcomed opportunities for his grandchildren to venture out and simply be children, Kassandra noticed that he did not view her husband's influence as necessarily a good one.

Still, Wanda smiled. "It's lovely. Grandpa will be proud."  
"She, Mommy," said Tyler. "Ships are 'she,' not 'it,' right?"  
"That's right," said Wanda, her smile brightening, "silly me."  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kurt and Kassandra teleported home from seeing the Princess and her children off at the palace, their dark tee shirts and cargo pants covered with dirt and grass stains, their faces flushed as only a solid hour or so of roughhousing outside with young children could make them.

"_I think this outing did Her Highness good_," said Kassandra.  
"Glaubst du?" said Kurt.  
Kassandra shrugged. "_It's hard to tell with her. But I am glad we did this_."

Kurt's cell phone rang, and Kassandra headed to their room. She had a way of doing that, retreating a safe distance if she anticipated he'd receive any work-related call. It spared him the trouble of having to wave her out the door as she all too often had to do to him when receiving any classified communiqué at home. An ongoing source of tension, however, both on the job and in their marriage, was that Kassandra was very much on her honor to respect his oath of secrecy and not extract things from his timeline he would not willingly disclose. And while most in Kurt's unit agreed that she more than deserved her commission, they also shared Mystique's mistrust in her. That the only one besides Kurt to really trust her was their star agent did not help matters.

"Hallo," said Kurt.  
"Agent Darkhölme, this is Captain Greycrow of the HMH Queen Magda. Sorry I'm going to have to cut your shore leave short, but…"

After Kurt received his orders, he entered the bedroom to find two duffel bags packed and his uniform neatly laid out on the bed. Kassandra stepped in, snapping her cell phone shut, hair relatively tidy, wearing service dress, her forehead knit in anxiety. "Was ist los?" said Kurt. "_Do you anticipate some new security threat?_"

Kassandra nodded. "_I already alerted the necessary authorities. Now I have to report to the helicarrier with you._" She then looked at Kurt, guilt written all over her face. "Ich muß mit Käpt'n Howlett helfen."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Translations:

Glaubst du? - (roughly) You think?  
Ich muß mit Käpt'n Howlett helfen. - I must help with Captain Howlett.


	7. Chapter 7

Kurt sat, letting Kassandra fly the plane as he was too distracted. "_You could have me brought up on charges for leaking information. Or you yourself could be court martialed for espionage_. Willst du etwa, dass das passiert!"

"Es tut mir leid," said Kassandra. "Ja_, it does look as if I've eavesdropped on your timeline. But I didn't. I just saw it happen_."

Oh, nein. That didn't just happen again. And she didn't just remind him of that again. She had a tendency to reflexively jump out of time whenever she even sensed something bad or even just frightening was happening to someone dear to her, like Kurt or her family. Or the man to whom Kassandra owed her ability to use her extratemporal powers without killing herself. The best man at their wedding. The man who still managed to occupy a special place in Kassandra's heart, despite having destroyed his friendship with Kurt. James Howlett, captain of the Red Guard, code named Wolverine. Kurt felt like he was going to be sick. "_So Howlett jumping from the helicarrier pulled you out of time_."

Kassandra didn't nod so much as simply hang her head in assent.  
"_You don't really have to be here_, nicht wahr?" Kurt demanded. "_You're only here to do what you usually do- stand up for Howlett whenever he acts up. How you could still care so much about someone who turned on us and seduced my mother is beyond me_-"

"_I'm no happier than you are that he can't seem to control his thing for redheads, but your mother seduced him! She has been using him all along. She knew exactly what Logan meant to me and how you thought he was good enough as friend and captain, but not good enough for her. This is just another attempt of hers to drive a wedge between us. _Kannst du das nicht sehen?" Kassandra might have said something about the possibility that she might also use this relationship to secure a promotion for herself, but refrained.

Kurt felt like he'd been slapped in the face. He was about to say something much nastier, but something else caught his attention. "Was?"

Kassandra just kept looking ahead. As the weather was being a bit difficult, she had to fly manually. And as approaching and landing upon what was essentially a sky borne aircraft carrier was tricky even under the best of circumstances, she did not want this conversation to distract her any further. Finally, she said, "This is General and Red Guard Agent Darkhölme requesting permission to land."

"Permission granted," came the voice over her headset. "Welcome aboard."

"Du hast Käpt'n Howlett, 'Logan' genannt," said Kurt. "Warum?"  
"_That temporal double vision, again_," sighed Kassandra. Colonel Shaw and Mystique were supposedly the only two who knew Howlett preferred to go by that name. And Kassandra was the only one who knew why. "_I saw it because he just had an episode of the same thing._"

"Was?"  
"Agent Darkhölme," said Kassandra, now operating fully in her role as superior officer. Kurt might have resented her doing that, if even now he didn't find it so attractive. "_I'm giving you a mission. Just you, as you're the best in your unit at keeping up with a moving target. Don't even let on that you know what's happened, but Captain Howlett can see into this other reality. He will seek out people who were friends of his in that reality, some of which are in the Sapien Resistance League and might be planning an attack on the palace. He may also trust you if you approach him as the friend he remembers you to be, but if all else fails and we can't bring him back…_"

"Ja?" said Kurt.  
"_It will be of primary importance to disable his tracker. At all cost, even if you have to rip that thing out of his neck. We may have to disable yours as well, but not at the moment_," said Kassandra with a meaningful scowl. "_If he leads us to these people, I want them all alive for interrogation, and I cannot have any sentinels or guardsmen crashing the scene prematurely. They will also be more willing to talk openly if they can see that the tracker has been disabled or removed, which will make it easier for me to plumb their lines for information. I will track Captain Howlett myself, and will alert you to his whereabouts when you can round up the most of those rabble rousers_."

This brought to mind several newspaper clippings Kurt had saved, much to his mother's dismay and to Kassandra's chagrin, the headlines of which read things like "Lord Magnus Apologizes to Tseiblaagte Family: Death of Mutant's Baseline Father Called a 'Tragic Mistake'" and "Sapien Sympathizer Takes Out Anti-Mutant Cult." People could complain all they wanted about Kassandra's radical views. The lack of tolerance she tended to show toward people who'd disgrace her cause with violence against mutants was another matter entirely. "Bitte um Erlaubnis, frei sprechen zu dürfen," said Kurt, the glow of his golden eyes just slightly more pronounced.

"Erlaubnis gewährt." Kassandra relaxed slightly, in anticipation of another round of some uniquely Kurt-styled compliments.

"_For you to issue orders such as these, I always figured there was a little Hellion in you_."

"Manchmal," Kassandra grinned, standing on tiptoe to whisper into that elegantly pointed ear of his. "_But there's nothing little about my Hellion_."

And while Kurt struggled to avoid turning purple, Kassandra opened the cockpit and disembarked.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Translations:

Willst du etwa, dass das passiert! - Do you want that to happen!  
Kannst du das nicht sehen? - Can't you see that?

Du hast Käpt'n Howlett, 'Logan' genannt. Warum? - You called Captain Howlett 'Logan.' Why?

Bitte um Erlaubnis, frei sprechen zu dürfen. - I request permission to speak freely.

Erlaubnis gewährt. - Permission granted.  
Manchmal - sometimes


	8. Chapter 8

As nonplussed as Mystique was that James had jumped ship and was likely creating quite the mess for the Red Guard to clean up, hearing that that little nuisance that that dared call herself a daughter-in-law, of all people, would be there giving orders made her already bad day even worse. On the other hand, it might, just might, be just as well that they'd be answering to her. That kid with the lucky commission still considered James a friend, a point of contention that Mystique hoped would serve to, if not help build a case for an eventual divorce, at least make that person her son married miserable. But she'd also be the most likely among the high command to take it easy on James. Mystique had been beginning to suspect she might be actually falling in love with James, whatever that meant, and some of the interrogation methods SHIELD utilized could be rough even on accelerated healers. At least with Kurt's little pet taking command, she was pretty sure she could count on having James back in good condition after questioning.

Okay, and so the assignment that garnered that child the commission was a tough one even by Red Guard standards, but she didn't have to fight her way up the non-commissioned ranks the way most of the Hellions like her son did. With the exception of a couple of raids and some reconnaissance, most of her military expertise came from plumbing timelines and reading dusty history books at that school that now devoted itself to producing… diplomats. The brat had next to no real combat experience, and suddenly Mystique had to salute this… general.

And here she came. "Agents Drew, Toynbee… Commander Darkhölme…" she saluted each as she and Kurt walked toward the starboard, knowing but not caring that they neither responded nor saluted fully, "Sooo…what kind of trouble has Captain Howlett gotten himself into now?"

Mystique thought of all the things she could say to try to antagonize the girl, or better yet attempt to spark a fight between her and her son. Frustierend! All this manipulation, no matter how she prided herself on her talent for it, was taking more effort than she thought possible and, but for experiencing James' hidden talents, it had long ceased to be fun. Right now it was just all too tempting to show that little wench in the service dress uniform where James went and how he got there from his point of view, by throwing her overboard. It wouldn't be as if she would make a widower of her son. After all, the girl had a healing factor. She could take care of herself. But watching her splat against a granite wall would be fun anyway.

"Mutter," Kurt rumbled, just barely loud enough for Mystique and Kassandra to hear. Mystique's face, even in its natural shape and color, was only easily read by very few. Kurt was one of those few. The expression his face adopted and the way his tail began to lash was as severe as the way he'd managed to slick his hair back into its ponytail.

Mystique sighed. "He went overboard this morning here, hit that building there," she pointed, "and he's moving more quickly than we expected, already out of our tracking range."

If Kassandra lamented the stupidity of not immediately assigning an extratemporal like herself or a mutant with super speed to chase Captain Howlett down and retrieve him immediately, she did not show it. Still, this worked to her advantage. She had to see just what he knew about this other reality. "So we need to anticipate where he'll be, and keep a step ahead of his tracker so we can grab him without the trouble of a chase. Not a problem. He'll be back. You'll find him in the lobby of Stark Tower ten minutes after it opens tomorrow morning. He'll be asking to see Tony Stark."

At that, Mystique sniffed derisively. As if Tony Stark could actually be found at the office building that bore his name! So it seemed apparent that James had indeed lost it, and the person put in charge of retrieving him was crazier than he was. Wunderbar!

Kurt glowered even further. Kassandra expected protocol to slip with more and more of the world's armed forces integrated under the umbrella of an overly complex and still largely civilian intelligence organization, so she didn't make a big deal of it. She didn't let even open displays of disrespect toward her bother her. But when they came from someone she was supposed to respect as family, that was a different matter. Kurt hated feeling stuck between love for his wife, as verrückt as she could come across, and loyalty to his mother, as cold as she could be. Ah, well, if Kassandra would bite her tongue about that once they got behind closed doors, they might possibly avoid a fight. But Kurt's patience with his mother was beginning to wear thin.

"And in the unlikely event that I'm wrong about this," said Kassandra in a way that made it abundantly clear to even Mystique just who was in command here, "we will fall back on his tracker. Meanwhile, you have your orders. Scout Stark Tower tomorrow morning, and bring him back to me. Dismissed! Aber du, Kommandeur Darkhölme," she said to Mystique. "musst sofort bei Oberst Shaw Bericht erstatten."

Kurt and Kassandra retreated below decks, Kassandra acknowledging those few who remembered to salute as they passed with a terse, "As you were."

"Ich will kein Wort reden," said Kassandra, once the door to their cabin snapped shut behind them. It was a nice cabin, more like a studio apartment on base than a berth on an aircraft carrier. No piano, but for a home away from home, it was otherwise sufficient. She sunk onto the bed, head in hand.

Kurt did not know quite what to say. Now that he thought about it, it seemed unfair for him to find too much fault with Howlett for falling for a subordinate. After all, he owed his own marriage to the fact that Kassandra had done pretty much the same thing. And so he didn't think Howlett was good enough for his mother. His mother felt the same about Kassandra. He decided to let all that go for now. If Kassandra could do that, so could he. But one more word about it from either her or his mother, and he might not maintain that restraint. He sat and slid his arm around Kassandra, inwardly lamenting how the red and gold epaulettes on her uniform got in the way. "_I forgot to say I'm sorry about yelling at you on the way over._" The expression on his face, knit in a glare since they stepped off the plane, softened as Kassandra hastily unbuttoned her jacket.

"Das ist gut so." Kassandra smiled as she got up and walked over to the bathroom. "Aber mach dir keine falschen Hoffnungen," she said over the sound of running water. "_I just need to clean up a bit, then try to get in early to see Dr. Strange._"

"Ich denkte nicht das," said Kurt, pulling Kassandra into a profound embrace as she stepped back out. "_Just that no matter how stunning you look in full uniform, holding you is easier without it._"

"Ich verstehe," said Kassandra, the buttons of Kurt's uniform pressing into her flesh. "_But I could say the same about your uniform_."

"Jetzt, fang du aber auch nicht an, Liebchen," said Kurt, kissing the top of her head. "Du hast Einiges zu erledigen oder?"

"Ja. Und Kurt?" said Kassandra, as she slipped back into her jacket. "_I'm also sorry I pulled rank on your mother like that._"

"Und das ist gut so," said Kurt, inhaling deeply. That he now knew the delightfully soft scent of her hair was Blended Beauty styling lotion, and not just something particularly magical about her, did not change a thing. "_I daresay even I think she deserved that. Now, what are we going to do for supper tonight? Since we're here_…"

"You pick the place. I'll track you and meet you there. Gut?" Kassandra walked toward the window, which offered a glorious bird's-eye view of the city.

"So, wohin musst du jetzt? Greenwich Village?" said Kurt.  
Kassandra nodded. That would be good enough. And as their feet touched down and the smoke from the teleport cleared, Kurt said, "Ein Kuss als Bezahlung für's Chauffieren?

"Ja doch," said Kassandra, happy to pay double that fare before Kurt ported back to the helicarrier.

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Translations:

Frustierend! - Frustrating!

Aber du, Kommandeur Darkhölme musst sofort bei Oberst Shaw Bericht erstatten. - But you, Commander Darkhölme, must report immediately to Colonel Shaw.

Ich will kein Wort reden. - I won't say a word.  
Aber mach dir keine falschen Hoffnungen. - But don't get any false hopes.  
Ich denkte nicht das. - I didn't think that.

Jetzt, fang du aber auch nicht an. - (roughly) Now you don't also start (getting false hopes).  
Du hast Einiges zu erledigen oder? - You have a few things to do, right?  
So, wohin musst du jetzt? - So where do you need to be now?  
Ein Kuss als Bezahlung für's Chauffieren - (roughly) a kiss to pay the chauffeur.


	9. Chapter 9

Kassandra was thankful that the nature of her abilities precluded a tracker in her neck. Logan needed to have his tracker replaced periodically, as his healing factor usually went to work against implants and such pretty quickly. Kassandra would have had the same trouble, but as a tracker, like most other electronic devices, tended malfunction when Kassandra used her extratemporal powers, it was rather pointless to issue her one at all. So she could venture wherever she needed with reasonable assurance of not being followed or even monitored. This, of course, made her reconnaissance and undercover operations easier, but at this point, she was under no cover. She just did not care to have her whereabouts broadcast to the helicarrier even under the most innocuous of circumstances, which she wasn't sure these were. She found Dr. Strange's office and entered.

"Can I help you?" said the receptionist, as she hung up the phone.  
"Yes. I'm Kassandra Darkhölme. I've anticipated a conflict with tomorrow morning's appointment, and I wanted to ask if Dr. Strange could work me in sooner."

"Ah, well you've timed this perfectly. His last appointment for the day was just cancelled. Can you come back in an hour?"

"Yes, thank you. I'll see you then!" said Kassandra, breezing out the door. One hour. One hour to poke around New York and maybe tap what pertinent timelines she could find. Some people may have regarded her as a killing machine of the loose cannon variety, rather like Wolverine, especially after Montana. But this sort of scouting was the sort of thing she did best. One hour to hop on over to Hell's Kitchen and confirm and gather some more intel on the Human Resistance, then return to Greenwich Village on time for her appointment? Too bad she wasn't wearing good running shoes. Oh well. The eight mile round trip would be the least of her concerns.

She needed to basically walk into the heart of Humantown, seeking out some of the House of Magnus' most dangerous enemies, and making sure that they would recognize her. But she could get in and out of there unseen. She powered up.

This was going to be more interesting than even she guessed. Lucas Cage, alleged ringleader of the Sapien Resistance League, was standing right out there on the sidewalk, the closest thing to unadulterated horror she could imagine seeing upon that unflappable face. Facing him was a young blond waif whom most people might have found about as terrifying as a sad kitten.

"Cage, Zeitgeist here," Kassandra hissed into his ear. "Let's take this inside before I'm seen here!"

She stopped time again, powering down at the entrance to a back room in what had to be the neighborhood's seediest dive, where she saw Cage and the little girl were planning to go. Not exhaustion, but the weight of what she'd just seen bore down upon her. Logan, herself, and now Cage could see into this other reality. Kassandra could guess why she would be able to. Logan, she had yet to figure out. But Cage- these memories he had on top of memories had everything to do with that little girl, as if she was… Kassandra pressed her forehead against her palms, struggling to wrap her mind around this.

"Es ist klar, jetzt!" Kassandra gasped, as Cage and the little girl caught up with her. The little girl had no timeline at all that Kassandra could see in this reality. The other reality, on the other hand… "No, Layla Miller, please don't look at me or tell me anything yet. I know what it is you're doing. I'm just not ready to deal with that."

"What?" said Layla. "What am I doing? And how do you know my name?"

"Everyone weaves a trail of some sort or another through time," said Kassandra. "Among the many other related things I do, I can follow those trails. For instance, Cage, you are likely to wonder if you should shoot me on the spot or continue trusting me as far as you trust any of your sources, starting right now."

The idea that Cage could be walking into a trap was always on his mind.

Out of the shadows of that dimly lit hallway stepped one of Magnus' top commanding officers. All the words he did not want to say around the kid crowded themselves out of his mind before any could erupt from his mouth.

"Of course, shooting me would be futile, anyway, my abilities being what they are," said Kassandra. "I'd have to return your guns to you first, anyway. But to show I know I can trust you…" she handed them to him.

"Your tracker…"

"If I had one, the Red Guard would be all over you by now. But I want to give you this information as badly as you want it. And to prove that once and for all…" Kassandra drew her knife, a gift from Logan for her wedding, which now served as a parrying dagger complementing her adamantium sabre. She pulled aside a handful of her hair, and pressed it to the back of her neck.

Cage raised an eyebrow. Apparently the general was ready and able to drive that knife home just to prove her reliability. "Got your point."

Kassandra smiled and sheathed her dagger. "Of course, I can expect your friends to react to me the same way, right? No, don't worry, I can handle it."

"I'm goin' ahead of you all the same," said Cage, walking in with Layla.

"Okay, everyone," Kassandra could overhear him saying, "when Zeitgeist notified us that Wolverine had jumped ship, she wasn't kidding when she said trouble within SHIELD went all the way up to the high command itself."

"And you still don't know how this Zeitgeist is getting this information," said a young woman. "This is probably some mutant trap, and we're probably walking right into it, dealing with her."

"Felicia Hardy, Black Cat, I presume. If anyone's walking into a trap right now," said Kassandra, stepping out ahead of Cage, triggering a volley of clicks as magazines loaded and guns cocked around the room, "it's me. Now if we want to discuss what to do about Captain Howlett, I suggest we all stand down.

"That means you, too, Herr Barton," she added, directing a pointed glare to Hawkeye, who still had arrow on string.

"Okay, but I'd like us to begin with some explanation as to why we want Howlett to begin with," said Hawkeye.

Kassandra glanced briefly over to Cage before she replied. "He's captain of the Red Guard. He'll have valuable information on all their tactics and field operations as well as inner workings that even I have difficulty accessing. Finally, you do understand what it could do our cause and your credibility if word got out that you were instrumental in helping bring in a rogue operative. Far more effective than your other plans… oh, like you really thought I wouldn't find out?"

"What do you know about that?" said Cage.

"More than enough. While Ashida's group is wasting human lives in suicide bombings, you'll be doing something really productive for the cause, without the death toll if all goes according to my plan.

"Here's what will happen. Tomorrow morning, ten minutes after the Stark building opens, Captain Howlett will turn up there. We'll have the Red Guard in there to take him in, but if he bolts…"

At this, heads leaned in as Kassandra's voice dropped. "Agent Rogue will call me for backup. This is where you'll come in, Tyrone," Kassandra said to Cloak. "Now, electronic communications will not work well when I'm powered up, so I'll have to talk you through this now."

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Translation:

Es ist sehr klar, jetzt. It is very clear now.


	10. Chapter 10

Dr. Strange did not quite know what to make of this patient. If she were anyone else, he might have diagnosed yet another case of Dead End Syndrome. Some of the symptoms- the bouts of anxiety and the apparent hallucinations that she insisted were real- were consistent with what his hardest case, Robert Reynolds, was experiencing. But the differences made her case far more interesting. She suffered no inferiority complex and none of the characteristic phobias. In fact, all other things considered and her mercurial temperament notwithstanding, she seemed in relatively good shape.

And she was a mutant.  
"So is it for your family's sake then, that you fear the imminent extinction of homo sapiens?"

"No," said Cassandra. "I'm more concerned about the imminent extinction of everything."

"Could you clarify?"  
"Okay, I'm not afraid of things ending at their intended time. I'm more worried of someone playing God, picking apart reality, and unraveling our whole universe. Or maybe just giving up on all of us and ending it all before it's time."

"Any particular someone?" said Dr. Strange.  
"Well, yes, but I'm not sure who it is. I look back on that point in time, where my trouble began, and it's all kind have muddled, which really irritates me!"

"Your memories, you mean?"  
"No, not my memories. The timelines themselves. That's what I do," said Kassandra, her voice suddenly sounding overdubbed and out of synch with itself, her image suddenly going blurry and transparent.

"I can phase out of temporal synchronization," she continued, powering down and resuming her normal appearance. "When I do that, I can control the flow of time. I also have access to everything that is happening or has ever happened. This means, among other things, that I can't forget a thing. Problem is that lately, I'm seeing things that hadn't happened… in this reality anyway, and forgetting things that have.

"I tried to check my timeline when this trouble started. Or timelines, rather. I started seeing two for each person, with maybe one or two exceptions. Anyway, I checked mine at that point, and it was as if someone grabbed all of time, shattered and rearranged it, like breaking and setting a bone all wrong. So I know one of these realities isn't right, but I'm not sure which one!"

"And you think someone did this to you?" Dr. Strange could not yet rule out paranoia.

"Not to me, no. And probably not intentionally."  
Well, there went that idea.

"But," she continued, "I can't figure out who did this or how it happened. It's as if that part of the timeline was just… dissolved in that void."

Dr. Strange leaned against his desk, head in hands. But before he could suggest it, Kassandra said, "And no, hypnosis will not help me get that back, nor do I think I really want it yet."

"Are you afraid of what you might find out?" At last Dr. Strange had hit on something. Not a diagnosis, but, at any rate, something.

"Yes," said Kassandra. "Yes, I am."  
"And how do you hope to address this fear?"

"Bit by bit for now, until I'm ready to take it head on, I suppose. But there is one more fear I need to address right now, Doktor."

"Yes?"  
"My mother-in-law got word of these episodes I've had, and has been using it against my husband and me. She never took me seriously, especially after she asked me the truth of these diaries, and I told her. It wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear."

"So these issues with your mother-in-law…"  
"…actually existed since Kurt and I started getting serious. I could handle that. But it's gotten worse since, all this condescending talk about how, while needing adjustment is nothing to be ashamed of, and while keeping me as a pen-pal or whatever is one thing, actually marrying someone with a 'condition' is another, and garbage like that. That, among other stunts she's been pulling, is really bothering Kurt."

"So you'd like me to tell you that you are not mentally ill, is that it?" said Doctor Strange.

"No," said Kassandra. "I'd just like some answers. I mean I'd be content even to know if there was a problem, so we could do something about it. But to hear from Madame Web that I wasn't ill, to even be able to confirm that in my timelines, and still have these things happening…"

"Do you find that frustrating?"  
"It scares me! I mean, what if what I'm seeing is indeed real?"

"Well," mused Dr. Strange. "I'm afraid I can't really help you that much. It doesn't appear that I've discovered a mutant variant of Dead End Syndrome, nor do you appear to suffer any biochemical imbalance. I'm not convinced that what you are seeing are hallucinations, either."

"Oh, nein!"  
"But you are obviously suffering some trauma on account of this. I would recommend taking what you're seeing simply as news from another reality. Terrifying news, no doubt, but I think you're handling this fairly well, all things considered."

"WAS!"  
"However, you could stand to learn some relaxation techniques."


	11. Chapter 11

Kassandra looked over the table, lit by the glow of twin tapers. American Kobe steak sizzled on their plates, with asparagus hollandaise and a crisp chopped salad tucked alongside. "_While I agree dinner right here is a good idea, this doesn't look like it came from the commissary_."

Kurt smiled. It was possible to surprise Kassandra, if she allowed it, or was busy enough with other things to not check certain pertinent timelines. "Old Homestead, a la teleport."

Kassandra's eyes shone with delight. The candlelight, the food, the soft music in the background- "Put Your Dreams Away" was the song.  
"_So what's with this Frank Sinatra mood, anyway?_" said Kassandra.

"It has to be you," said Kurt, smiling. Clearly, he thought of everything, except one thing.

"Aber diesen hier hast Du vergessen." Kassandra smirked, setting a bottle of Zinfandel on the table. "_Your favorite American wine with my favorite American food. And perhaps our favorite movie, afterward?_"

Leave it to Kassandra to respond to a pleasant surprise in kind. And after they sat and gave their thanks, praying, hand in hand, she didn't stop there. "Ich hab gute Nachrichten vom Doktor Strange," she said, tapping her head. "Ich habe kein problem hier oben. _He agrees with what I suspected, actually, but as for what to do about it, he couldn't offer more than suggestions to help me relax, but…_"

"_But you feel better already_, nicht wahr?" said Kurt.

Kassandra nodded. "_Still apprehensive, but if the universe is coming undone, letting my fear ruin moments like these won't help matters_."

"_Well, I'd be happy to tell Mama that Dr. Strange has joined the ranks of those who don't think you're crazy, maybe when she gets out of the brig. By the way, what happened? Was it insubordination_?"

Kassandra shook her head. "_I shouldn't say, but it had to do with the mission she and Howlett took in Mexico while you were dealing with that 'misunderstanding' in Wakanda, not how she acted toward me. And she'll be out tomorrow morning anyway, with no court martial or anything_."

Kurt felt a bit relieved to hear that. And after dinner, he settled quite nicely with a wine glass in one hand, Kassandra nestled up against him, as the strains of the famous Erik Wolfgang von Korngold score now filled the room. This movie, while Kurt enjoyed it for the adventure, Kassandra liked for the portrayal of a rebel loyal to his king. But the exploits and politics of Robin Hood were far from their minds now. Bess was telling the Lady Marian about how being in love involved "goosey-pimples down your spine."

She was only partially right, Kurt mused, feeling his own flesh respond accordingly as Kassandra edged even closer, her finger lazily tracing around the buttons on his shirt. And what did Olivia de Havilland say in the interview about the next scene? That during retakes of the kissing, Errol Flynn experienced, as she so delicately put it, a "problem."

Kassandra had long removed her jacket, as he had done, and kicked off her shoes. She now looked and felt much more comfortable with the light camisole, the perfectly modest navy blue skirt that still hugged those runner's thighs just so, and her bare feet, tucked up beside her, tempting his tail to some gentle ticklish mischief. The way she leaned her head against his chest, stretching her legs out. The look she shot him, effectively vetoing his plans for tickling her… well, he hoped she would consider other options, because he was again feeling like he was having the same "problem."

He gently slid Kassandra over his lap, and after some fumbling with clothes, allowed the rest of the movie to play on, unwatched.

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Translations:

Aber diesen hier hast Du vergessen. - But you have forgotten this.

Ich hab gute Nachrichten vom Doktor Strange. Ich habe kein problem hier oben. - I have good news from Dr. Strange. I have no problem up here.


	12. Chapter 12

Wanda… Braddock… Saturnyne… Wer sind diese Zeitbrecher? …und Kurt? Kurt!

Kassandra awoke with a start, again half expecting to find herself in a brig aboard an aircraft carrier, off the coast of a bombed out Hammer Bay, rather than safe and warm in her husband's fuzzy blue embrace. Durchatmen, Kassandra. She inhaled deeply, reminding herself that while this was terrifying news, it was from a different reality, and she was in this one, just as Dr. Strange suggested. She then turned over. Kurt shifted accordingly, but didn't awaken. Gott sei dank. It was 4:30. While he may have been a morning person, he needed his rest. He looked so peaceful, the memory of all that had so thoroughly worn him out yesterday still fresh, judging from the contented smile gracing his sleeping face.

Kassandra, on the other hand, even after she had reined in her panic and confusion, found getting back to sleep difficult. One characteristic of her healing factor was that, unless she was seriously exhausted, she could wake up completely refreshed after only a few hours of rest, quite the opposite of when she couldn't even step out of time without putting herself in a coma. It was hardly any wonder Logan had a reputation for those occasions of complete stir-craziness. Kassandra strove, with some difficulty, to disentangle herself from Kurt's arms and tail without disturbing him. At the very least, she could use this time to think things over, read, and above all, pray. But first, while she dared not risk waking him, she could not resist brushing his lips with the lightest, softest possible kiss. His smile deepened.

Kurt awoke an hour later to the sound of the shower running, then shutting off. "O Jesus, durch das Makellose Herz von Maria, biete ich Dir meine Gebete, Arbeiten, Freuden an und Leide von diesem Tag…"

If he didn't always begin the day saying that prayer out loud, it nonetheless ran through his thoughts every morning. He then got up, hoping Kassandra had left some hot water for him. She stepped out of the bathroom, clad only in a towel, her hair, still damp, hanging almost to the middle of her back. "Oh, mei! _I offer up my joys, and He grants me a vision in return,_" he said, delighting in how Kassandra's tendency to blush was not limited to her face.

"Du bist unmöglich, Kurt," said Kassandra, more than a little flustered by the reminder that she'd also just promised to offer up her sufferings, particularly those associated with her visions. And speaking of suffering, Kassandra pulled a uniform out from the closet. "_We'll have to wear battle dress today. Can you meet me in the commissary when you're ready?_"

"Ja doch."  
"_And I just called a brief meeting in the war room for after breakfast. I really do think it will come down to fighting, and I want everyone, you in particular, to be ready_."

"Ja wohl," said Kurt, smiling in awe at the many ways he was willingly at this petite, dark young woman's command, then kissing her merrily before he stepped into the bathroom to clean up.

After a breakfast that was actually pretty good by commissary standards, Kurt and Kassandra met Anna Marie, as well as Agents Toynbee and Drew, Captain Greycrow, and Colonel Shaw.

"I've called you in to debrief you on some pretty unsettling developments that have taken place yesterday evening, that may likely affect our mission today," said Kassandra.

Our mission. Kurt liked that. It wasn't just an indication of her solidarity with him as his wife, but her identification with the agents she sent into the field. He could see that Anna Marie and perhaps Agent Toynbee also rather liked that.

Kassandra continued. "According to intelligence we have just received on the Sapien Resistance League, through their own surveillance, they have become aware that Captain Howlett is AWOL and are now also tracking him, hoping that he might be useful in their plans they have against Lord Magnus."

"You mean…" said Agent Drew.

Kassandra held her hand up, cutting her off. "I would of course prefer for Captain Howlett to return without any fuss, but there will likely be some skirmish. As dangerous as it may be, it will give us access to the Sapien Resistance League's network that has been difficult even for me with my powers to gain. Even if we are not successful at bringing in Captain Howlett, the opportunity will likely arise for us to round up a whole hive of gangsters and terrorists, provided we act prudently.

"I will need Captain Howlett and anyone else you are able to apprehend alive, so I can root out and stop the threat this group poses to Lord Magnus. Spider-Woman and Toad," she said, casting a particularly pointed glance toward Agent Drew, "I'll need you two to be particularly careful. Howlett may be feeling very stressed, and will very likely lash out if you approach him aggressively."

"Yes, Ma'am," said Agent Toynbee.  
Jessica Drew tried not to roll her eyes.

"And Nightcrawler," said Kassandra, stepping around to face Kurt directly, "you already know what you need to do if Captain Howlett bolts. But the SRL will likely have snipers on the scene, so be ready to dodge whatever they might throw at you."

"Ja wohl, Ma'am," said Kurt, with quiet resolve. If Kassandra had any reservation about giving him the most dangerous part of the mission, she did not show it any more than if he was any other agent. A few people saw that as how she did not play favorites and would not let her personal feelings interfere with what needed to be done. After all, Kurt was the best at pursuing moving targets. But most others liked to write that tendency off as part of her rumored instability- her apparent willingness to send her own husband into some death trap or another as if he were just any other agent.

"Requesting permission ta speak freely," said Anna Marie. She had thought she was in the former camp. After all, Kassandra had more than once thrown herself headlong into a fray on an agent's behalf. But she just needed reassurance on one thing.

"Permission granted, Rogue," said Kassandra.  
"Ya said this was our mission, lahk it's yours, too. Are ya comin' down with us, too?"

"Yes," said Kassandra. "I will be nearby, monitoring the situation, with backup on hand should you need it. Now let's move!"

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"Tony Stark?" said Wolverine, to the lovely emerald-skinned receptionist.

"Sorry," she said. "He doesn't live in this city. He only owns the building."

"What do you want with Tony Stark, James?" said a cool voice, accompanied by the sound of a gun cocking right by his ear. "Bosses want you brought in. They said any which way."

"Schlechte Bewegung, Agent Drew!" thought Kassandra, listening in on her comlink. Rogue and Toad now came in, expressing their concern and support for their captain and teammate. They might as well have saved their breath. Drew's playing tough had now effectively shot any chance that Howlett would return with them without a fight.

"SHIELD Command, this is Red Guard Agent Darkhölme," said Mystique, remembering not to give out her rank when in the field. "We have him."

Now just what to do with him was a different matter. "Keep trying to talk him down, Agent Darkhölme," said Kassandra. "But be ready to shoot if he bolts… to disable, of course. I can trust you to not hurt him too badly, nicht wahr?"

"Okay." Mystique could not bring herself to address that general properly, but her shared concern for James deserved some acknowledgment. "James, seriously, do what Agent Drew says, okay?"

Howlett blinked as if trying to get his bearings. As if he were surprised to see Kurt and Rogue there with Spider-Woman, Toad, and Mystique. "He's popped a stitch," said Mystique.

This was just too ridiculously perfect. Any last chance Mystique had to complain about Kurt's wife being crazy without hypocrisy just flew out the window. "Too bad," Kurt responded, completely devoid of sympathy.

Some more tense words were exchanged, leading Agent Drew to agree with Mystique. And let her guard down just long enough to taste a mouthful of Wolverine's knuckles chased with her blood.

"HE'S BOLTING! DREW'S DOWN! WE NEED BACKUP!" Rogue screamed.

"Colonel Shaw, report to the Stark Tower lobby. We need to secure the perimeter. And bring Agent Foley immediately!" Kassandra changed channels on her comlink. "Okay, Cloak, Hawkeye," she whispered, "Remember the drill… Now!"

James Howlett remembered everything about his life. Good, horrific, whatever. All the gaps were finally filled in. But he never remembered Kurt to be the sort that would fight alongside Mystique and Toad, let alone fire at him. And he never knew the Elf to be such a lousy shot, unless... well it didn't matter exactly where he was aiming. He wouldn't stick around to find out, not with his best friend firing round upon round in his general direction. He crashed out through a plate glass window and made for the motorcycle he "commandeered" yesterday. Doors? Who has time for them?

Kurt teleported after him, getting closer to catching up with each port. "Nightcrawler," Kassandra's voice came, clear enough despite the interference his teleportation caused. "Remember. Catch him from the side, not… NEIN!"

Communication went dead as searing pain ripped through Kurt's neck and back.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Translations:

Wer sind diese Zeitbrecher? - Who are these Timebreakers?  
Durchatmen - breathe deeply

O Jesus, durch das Makellose Herz von Maria, biete ich Dir meine Gebete, Arbeiten, Freuden an und Leide von diesem Tag.- O Jesus, through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I offer you my intentions, works, joys, and suffering of this day.

Schlechte Bewegung - Bad move


	13. Chapter 13

Strange. Kurt was never one to sleep on his stomach. He preferred sleeping on his side, particularly with an arm and a tail draped over a particular beautiful woman, perhaps resting in the memory of a blissful moment together. Where was she, and why… Oh, Lieber Gott, es tut mir weh!

"Ich bin hier, Kurt," said Kassandra, placing a hand that felt strangely warm and sticky right where it hurt worst. "_I just pulled three arrows out of your back_."

"_So that stem cell soup in your veins is type O negative? So you are good for something!_"

"Kommandeur Darkhölme," Kassandra said, ignoring the jibe as she again pushed up her sleeve and sliced the rapidly healing cut in her forearm, hoping her blood in Kurt's wounds would speed healing. "_I need you to apply pressure here, and here, and_… Elixir! We could use your help here!"

"Right away, Ma'am," said Agent Foley, who'd been attending to Agent Drew's broken jaw and Toynbee's severed tongue. He was trained as an interrogator, mainly to keep suspects from dying at Wither's hands before they'd given up their answers, but his ability to accelerate other people's healing capabilities meant the occasional chance to serve in a less despicable capacity as field medic.

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Oops would have been the understatement of the century. Hawkeye might have suspected Black Cat might have been sabotaging this mission, except that he knew she'd been having difficulty controlling her luck powers over the past couple days. Regardless, it couldn't have gone worse. He had failed to shoot out Wolverine's tracker before Cloak snagged him. And Nightcrawler… well…

A firm kick to the kidneys nearly sent him hurtling off the rooftop. "I said disable their trackers, not my husband!" Zeitgeist shrieked, blurry and transparent, sword and a very bloody dagger drawn. "And you call yourself Hawkeye? Cloak, get him out of here before I do something we'll all regret!"

She disappeared just as Hawkeye wondered if he'd be that dagger's next destination.

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"Kurt, du kannst jetzt durchatmen," said Kassandra, helping Kurt up.

Kurt cautiously inhaled deeply, pleasantly surprised to feel no more stabbing pain and the kinks in his lung and muscles dissipating.

"You check out as good as new now, Darkhölme," said Elixir, "though I can't say the same about your jacket."

"This wouldn't have happened if we used unstable molecular fabric in the uniforms," said Kassandra.

"What are you talking about?"  
"Never mind," said Kassandra, dismissively, remembering that with the death of Reed Richards in this reality, the standard material for body armor hadn't been invented. "Kurt, ich hasse es das zu machen, aber Deine Einheit braucht dich..."

"_If I am fit for duty, I should be here_," Kurt whispered into her ear, arms still around her even though it was plain he could stand well enough on his own. "Sei unbesorgt, Liebling."

What might have been as tender a moment possible on the field was interrupted when Kassandra powered up. Kurt let her go. "Okay," she yelled. "Who called for a sentinel bombardment in Hell's Kitchen? Colonel Shaw, who ordered it?"

"They say Howlett's tracker went offline, General. It's standard procedure."

"And did I not just say we need them all apprehended alive?" Kassandra exploded. "Call off the sentinels, NOW! I'll give the signal when to take these people."

Kassandra began to storm off, but rethought that for just a moment. "Es tut mir leid, Liebster. Ich muss gehen," she said, kissing Kurt lightly, then walking off, "_I have a bit of a mess to clean up here before I head back to Genosha! We'll talk later_."

Kassandra ducked under the police tape, overhearing a brewing argument some reporter was having with one of the reinforcements, and disappeared. She reappeared outside the office of Wilson Fisk, then made a quick phone call. It was quite clever of Cloak to choose that place for them to regroup. Whether or not Cage or his people were responsible for beating the Kingpin into a coma, his office would be the last place most people would expect them to turn up. Most people. She had to be careful, however. It was likely she'd bear the blame for the sentinel attack in the form of a bullet in the head.

The sound of metal slicing metal followed by the door swinging open cut short Logan's and Cage's discussions of their memories on top of memories and what it all meant.

Cage hastily shoved a magazine into his gun and fired off three rounds.  
"It's her, that sneaky little…"

Layla shrieked, her eyes emitting a burst of green light in her panic. Kassandra hit the floor.

"Don't shoot!" said Wolverine. "Let me deal with her."  
"The sentinels were sent in without my authorization. I'm sorry," said Kassandra, breathing shakily.

"You okay, Little Elf?" Logan offered her a hand up.  
Kassandra remained still for a moment, apparently struggling to catch her breath, before she accepted. "If by that you mean was I hit, I'm fine."  
"Ya remember now, dontcha, kid?"

Kassandra shook her head. "Nein, Logan. It seems I always remembered, but in bits and pieces. It just all makes sense now. Thank you, Miss Miller, but I think I should warn you that the people you'll help next will not handle it quite this well."

Well? That general, whom Layla imagined should have been more than just barely taller than her, looked like she was only barely restraining the urge to cry, faint, throw up, tear her hair out and scream in rage, or everything at once.

"Anyway," Kassandra continued, valiantly pulling herself together, "I see your plan, Logan, and I agree that our chances for setting reality 'right'" – here she grimaced at the word- "will improve if you follow through. But you weren't planning on teleporting all the way to Hartford, Cincinnati, Chicago, all those places, were you?"

All eyes turned to Cloak. "How far do you need me to go?" he asked.  
"Right now, only as far as Fort Hamilton. Logan, it took some doing, but I've arranged your clearance, and a cover for your jumping ship, too. So it all looks clear. There's a plane waiting for you there. Sorry, but for the moment, you'll all have to pretend Logan's taking you into custody."

"Not a chance," said Cage.  
"Now listen, I know you are all well within your rights to not trust me, but you trust Logan, right?"

"More than I trust any other mutant."  
"Let's get going, then," said Logan. "Ya comin' along, kid?"

"I can't. I have to fly back to Genosha immediately," said Kassandra. "Besides, it's just as well that you take it all from here."

With that, Kassandra disappeared. But midway over the Atlantic, after Cage's people had enough time to get back, she radioed the helicarrier. "This is General Darkhölme requesting a secure line to Colonel Shaw… yes, thank you… Colonel Shaw, send the Red Guard to the office of Wilson Fisk. We have them."

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Translations:

Oh, lieber Gott, es tut mir weh! Oh, dear God, it hurts!


	14. Chapter 14

Memories on top of memories. Temporal double vision. Kurt now knew what that meant. They went to follow up a sting operation and roll up some terrorists, and in a flash of green light from a little girl's eyes, everything changed. Happy memories of his wedding and settling into married life now gave way to horrific recollections of grievous partings, battling the Weaponeers in Zanzibar, then suddenly finding himself… not in Zanzibar any more.

Kitty Pryde ran over to him, apparently taking her discovery that she wasn't an Ohio schoolteacher in better stride. "Kurt, where's Pietro? Where is he?"

"I don't even know where I am, Liebchen," said Kurt, rubbing the back of his neck.

After a few seconds of attempting to pull themselves somewhat together, the group decided to head to Genosha via the helicarrier. That Kurt could be given, if not everything he ever wanted, something, someone at least worth that much to him, and then find out the whole thing was a lie used to manipulate him- it was worse than merely having Kassandra's worst visions confirmed. It played havoc on his heart. And so it was almost with Wolverine's cold resolve for vengeance that he led the others to the command deck.

And with Emma Frost along, convincing Captain Greycrow that he was indeed under orders to set course for Genosha was a relatively simple matter. Eating, on the other hand, wasn't. Rogue summed up the feelings Kurt and most of the others had about Cyclops' suggestion that they eat. "I ain't hungry. Ah'm pissed."

"Kurt…" said Kitty, struggling in vain to figure out something to say to get his mind off of what knit his face in such a gloomy expression and caused him to curl and uncurl his tail in deep, disturbed thought.

"Just thinking about some things Kassandra said over breakfast yesterday… I mean…"

"What?" said Kitty, finally noticing the band on Kurt's finger. "Oh my God! Kurt, you mean you and Kassi finally got married, and I wasn't even a bridesmaid? It goes to show that Wanda didn't get everything right!"

"I don't doubt that," Kurt replied, wondering how some people, like Spiderman, had apparently never lost family or friends long dead in this other reality, but Kassandra had still lost her father. "But what do you mean, finally?"

"Come on, Kurt! You think just because she broke it off with you, she'd stopped loving you? Think, Kurt. Even if we didn't quite get everything we wanted, we got something pretty close. And I don't think you'd have ended up together if either one of you didn't want that."

Kätchen had a point. But what purpose did knowing all this serve? "Well, she did say as much, for all the good that does."

Logan slapped his plate down on the table beside him. "Well, it's good ta know that it wasn't just because I was pullin' for you to get together with her, then. Hey, the meatloaf isn't half bad. You should get some."

This from a guy who didn't even turn up his sensitive nose at raw whatever animal just slid off his claws. Kurt was about to decline when Cyclops spoke up.

"All right, listen up!" Cyclops began outlining a plan to find Xavier, if possible, or persuade Wanda to restore reality.

Kätchen and Drew interrupted, questioning if they should try to restore reality. What if they made things worse? Weren't they happier in this reality?

"Magneto got what he wanted," said Drew, referring to his world domination, "but so did we. Isn't it a wash?"

"What?" said Kurt, so beside himself he almost lapsed into German. In the ensuing argument, it became clear that they had missed something, like how all reality would unravel prematurely if they didn't try to do something about it. Restoring reality to its previous, unaltered state would not by any stretch be pleasant, but he figured Kassandra would say it would beat the alternative.

"Everybody done? Okay. Three teams." said Cyclops.  
"Wait," said Kurt. "If we are going to attack the palace, shouldn't we consult my wi… I mean, Kassandra… first?"

"What for?" said Cage. "So she can then sic the royal guard on us?"  
"Logan," said Kurt, "Kassandra told me that both you and she knew of the reality we're now trying to get back. Just what do you know?"

"I got all my memory back, which is just what I wanted, Elf. And I talked to her. She knew bits and pieces until the little girl zapped her and it all fell into place. So now she knows everything we do."

"And then some," said Kurt. "She was given special command of the royal guard and should already be at the palace. Her advice should be invaluable."

"If it doesn't take us into another death trap," said Felicia. "How do you know she's on the same page?"

"She told me about what she sees happening if reality isn't set right. And she doesn't want our world to be prematurely destroyed any more than you do."

Just then, Cyclops' cell phone rang.  
"Scott."  
"Kassandra? Why are you calling my phone?"

"Because I'm not stupid enough to phone this to the helicarrier. Layla is in no shape to wake everyone up there. And some of these people, like Shaw… do you really want them to remember who they really are now?"

"So what? Were you listening in on my timeline or something?"

"Only to spare you the trouble of having to repeat yourself to me. I'm glad to see now you're interested in restoring reality, rather than putting Wanda down. Disgusting idea, by the way. You all should have left plotting assassination to the professionals. Not that that would have happened anyway. Anyway, the best we can do is keep everyone else occupied while someone tries to persuade Wanda to do her part to set things right."

"The best we can do? Is there any guarantee it will work? What can you see?"

"There is no guarantee, Scott."  
"Oh, great."

"You don't understand. Wanda's meddling has created tears in the fabric of space and time. There is one in England that the Braddocks are dealing with as we speak, and something strange going on right here in Hammer Bay that even I am having trouble figuring out. And Saturnyne's out to put our whole universe down if we don't stop it.

"So as for what you can do about it, the plan we have now is as good as we're going to get. Havok, Northstar, Revanche, and Pyro are the guards on duty tonight that will give you the most grief. Sasquatch and Sauron are also there. But I would suggest you try to take Magneto directly. He's far more dangerous. And Pietro will also join the fight if he thinks Wanda is in any kind of danger."

"And our greatest risk?"  
"Me. I'll try to stay out of the fight, but as far as most people know, in this reality, my allegiance is to the House of Magnus."

"No kidding. After what Cage said about you…"  
"At any rate, I'll be busy trying to hold time together, so anyone who interferes with me should be ready to kill or be killed."

"Well, that's nice to know!"  
"One more thing. Can you get Kurt on the phone?"

"All right." Scott could find this one a relatively easy favor. After all, while he could relate, having discovered he really wasn't married to Emma, they would be free to continue seeing each other, assuming they'd succeed in restoring reality. Yet it would take nothing short of a miracle for Kurt and Kassandra to have that option. "Here, Kurt. Kassi wants to talk to you."

"Hallo?" said Kurt.  
"Kurt, _remember what I said yesterday._ Ich liebe dich noch immer."

Kurt could only nod, choking up, resolving, once they set reality right, to, if possible, also set right the matter of their marital status.


	15. Chapter 15

"Lord Magnus," said Phantazia, dropping to a full kowtow. "General Darkhölme has just reported that she will be arriving at the palace any second now."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Harsaw," said Magneto.

"So I understand you and this young prodigy of yours do not always agree, yet she is nonetheless loyal to you," said Victor von Doom, ruler of one of the few more or less independent nations remaining. "I should like to meet this General Darkhölme."

"And so you shall," said Magneto, ushering Dr. Doom to the foyer. "Very soon, too. She is quite known for, among other things, her promptness. And here she is."

The royal guard presented arms. Kassandra smiled as she walked past, returning the salute, fully understanding now the delight she took in the fact that some, especially Allerdyce, were saluting her. Most had wronged her in one way or another, and all but one of those now answered to her. She reminded herself to remain in the role she was committed to play, and restrained the urge to gag as she dropped to her left knee in the presence of Lord Magnus.

"General Darkhölme."

"My lord," said Kassandra softly, hoping she still at least sounded deferential as she rose, trying not to step on the hem of her long mess uniform skirt.

"Please allow me to introduce Victor von Doom, King of Latveria."  
"General, it is a pleasure to finally meet you," said Dr. Doom, with a slight bow, taking her white-gloved hand.

"The pleasure is mine, Your Highness." She curtseyed, careful to not tip under the weight of her decorations or say anything about how he'd been looking well lately.

"But I expected a warrior of your repute to be a bit taller," said Doom.  
"My size has served me well in reconnaissance and in battle. It's one more thing that makes me hard to see and harder to hit."

"Still, I am curious as to why you would willingly put that and your considerable skills to Lord Magnus' service, when your dissatisfaction with the human rights situation in Africa is well-known."

"Peaceful and equal coexistence is my objective, Your Highness, and so I side only against anyone, mutant or otherwise, who would interfere."

"And so I hope you understand why she is so important to me," said Magneto. "But tonight we celebrate. Care for a drink before we make our appearances? You too, General. Your mother sent this shiraz with her regrets."

"Thank you, Sire, but I am afraid I must decline," said Kassandra, hoping this gracious host would drink enough to let nothing faze him. Using her temporal powers would be hard enough with time running out for this reality and perhaps for the universe, and a mentally unhinged causality-altering mutant holding the reins. She did not need him to interfere by throwing his magnetic powers into play. She then turned to Dr. Doom. "I am, after all, still in command of the royal guard. Even if I am also here as a guest, it's still my responsibility to make sure everything goes according to plan."

"Very well," said Magneto. "You are dismissed."  
"Thank you, Sire," said Kassandra, hastily genuflecting again and backing out. Indeed, she was grateful to get out of that room.

"One of the other reasons why I'm glad to have her commanding my army," said Magneto, pouring out two glasses, "is how she always takes her responsibilities so seriously."

"Indeed," said Dr. Doom, accepting a glass. "And so you expect having an officer such as her, who doesn't always agree with you, will actually help consolidate your power?"

"To help maintain order in my realms, rather," said Magneto.  
"A bold move." Dr. Doom raised an incredulous eyebrow. "It might almost work." If only because there was something to the line about keeping friends close and enemies closer.

"As you were," said Kassandra, striding down the lines of armed guards giving full salute. She knew of a nice place to take her post, far enough out so she could power up without alarming anyone, yet close enough so she wouldn't look like she was avoiding people. It was a nice semicircular terrace set just a bit above the main courtyard, a perfect place, to the casual observer anyway, for a shy party guest content to be a wallflower to sit and people-watch. And so she wound her way through the guests, smiling at those who'd greet her, answering a few questions, trying to look casual. And wishing Kurt was with her. He was always much better at events like these than she was, despite, or, depending on the circumstances, sometimes even because of his appearance. She sighed as she sat on the bench that rounded the terrace, thinking of that and all the many other reasons she loved, needed Kurt as she looked over the curtained dais from which the House of Magnus and the other dignitaries would make their entrances. She then shut her eyes for a split second.

"We have to assume they know we're coming," she could overhear Cyclops saying. True enough. Phantasia already suspected something amiss. But the plan was so atypical for the Red Guard, something so unlikely to happen since Magneto and Shaw had taken over the sentinel program, that Kassandra could do a convincing job acting surprised. Still, she got back up and strode back over to the assembled guards.

"At ease," she said, before any of them could salute her. "Lieutenant Harsaw, I see that something has caught your attention. What is it?"

"I'm feeling the electrical signature of an approaching aircraft, Ma'am. Possibly a helicarrier."

"Ah, yes, the reinforcements," said Kassandra, technically not lying through her teeth. "The Red Guard had been called in to help step up security around the whole island, remember? Still, I'll alert you if I suspect anything will go wrong."

And so the delegates and dignitaries were presented amid much applause, salutation, and a bit of confetti.

"I see it now," said Kassandra. "An impending sentinel malfunction. I'll alert Lord Magnus."

She disappeared, leaving Phantazia to cast her eyes skyward, wondering what to expect. "Uh-oh," she said. Indeed, this already looked to be worse than a typical malfunction. A sentinel left formation, and flew directly toward the palace, head first at top speed. She had magnetic powers. She could stop it. Oh, but Lord Magnus beat her to it, stopping the sentinel in midair, even taking it apart with one outstretched hand, before it could smash into the very dais upon which he and his family sat. And here came the reinforcements… but who were these other people? Why did the Red Guard, rather than serve as reinforcements, seem to be attacking with the rebels? And where did the general go?

If the palace guard was confused by that little bit of disinformation, the way they rushed to the defense of their king, with minimal hesitation, only barely belied that. Kassandra could almost feel proud of them. As it was though, so far, so good. Magneto was occupied. Emma, Tyrone, and Layla were already checking one of the two places Kassandra figured they might find Xavier. Wanda and the children, despite being knocked around a bit, would remain safe as long as Lorna could hold her protective magnetic bubble around them. But Wanda did not like what was going on, and literally went to pieces before everyone's eyes.

Mach fest, Kassandra thought, remaining powered up, bracing in anticipation of being tossed amid some pan-dimensional tempest. Layla Miller had anchored Kassandra to her reality, but still…

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY SISTER?" Pietro screamed.  
Kassandra fought back a wave of faintness to see a thought in Dr. Strange's timeline. His job was to simply try to gently persuade Wanda to restore reality. At any rate, he had found her and the children, safe and comfortable, playing together in the east tower. No matter. Pietro would hear no reason. And it was now time for Kassandra to enter the fight.

Kurt could hear a familiar voice screaming with disconcerting volume, "Non-lethal force, only! We can take them!" With so many people charging the palace, Kurt almost felt powerless to watch all their backs. It did not help that even "non-lethal" force from most of the guard could very easily kill. And when he teleported upon Revanche wielding her psi-blade with murder in her eyes- wasn't she supposed to be dead? - he expected to soon share that fate. He teleported a short distance away to help out Cyclops, but not before catching a glimpse of a barely visible wraith, a vision of graceful ferocity in a skirt ripped up the side, jacket unbuttoned, pulling a dagger out of Revanche, spinning to clock Pyro with the pommel of a bloody sabre.

"I said non-lethal force… oh, nein! Barton!" Kassandra braced for yet another buffeting from Wanda's powers. Such was the extremity of Wanda's power and her illness that if things didn't go exactly the way she liked, she would just change it. Without even trying. She regretted having killed Hawkeye in one reality, so she brought him back in this one. Of course, thanks to Layla Miller, he'd remember enough to follow Wanda here with vengeance on his mind. She didn't like that, so she erased the arrow he'd put in her back, and then him.

Kassandra regained her bearings, then powered down to broadcast a thought to Emma, simple and short, as she usually kept her words and thoughts toward Emma minimal. "Alert the others. Watch out for Pietro!"

Of course, as he was responsible for talking Wanda into creating this mess, Pietro would remember. Magneto, newly awakened by Layla Miller, stormed onto the scene, furious with him. All Kassandra could see was him overreacting, and Wanda...

"WHAT RIGHT!" thundered Magneto, sending chunks of the dismantled sentinel crashing down upon his son, eerily echoing something Kassandra remembered screaming out of desperation rather than fury to Saturnyne, or Wanda, or perhaps both. About as much right as Magneto had to do this, Kassandra fumed.

"Brother!" cried Wanda, descending from the tower to the carnage below, willing Pietro back to life.

Emma maintained an open line of telepathic communication with Dr. Strange, but also perceived a need to be alert for any thoughts or empathic broadcasts directed toward her from Kassandra. She was more than aware that Kassandra disliked her rather intensely, and if she could admit to having any feeling whatsoever toward her, it would have been disdain. Nonetheless, if Kassandra was willing to put that aside to set reality right, Emma could respect that, if not her.

"Hang tight. She might just do this."  
"Might?" Emma thought incredulously.  
"Emma, you just try predicting what Wanda will do, with causality being only as stable as she is."

Kassandra had a point. She could only see probable futures take shape. But Wanda could just as easily turn herself into a warthog as restore reality, thereby presenting too many possibilities for Kassandra to be able to anticipate anything with any certainty. But what was this? Wanda was now raving against the arrogance of her father, as if there were no hubris in assuming her way was best. Emma's eyes widened in horror as an empathic shriek seared through her mind. "Oh, no…"

Time was up. Kassandra could see Meggan Braddock charging through Otherworld to face the chaos that threatened all existence. The cosmos would heal. Life would find its way until its natural conclusion, as God intended, barring no further interference… Was? WAS BILDEST DU DIR EIN, MAXIMOFF!

No more mutants? Kassandra desperately threw up the largest temporal warp field she ever could, hoping to preserve the integrity of as many timelines as possible. Probability shifted. It would happen. Time snapped, and the recoil hurtled Kassandra into oblivion.


	16. Chapter 16

Kurt retreated to his room to pack his bags for England, and found a message on his own answering machine. "Kurt, es ist Adimu," said Dr. Altheim in a choked whisper. "I would have called the Institute directly because I think Henry should also know this, but with all that's going on, I figured I would not get through. I heard from the Department of Mutant Corrections. Kassandra had been in some kind of fight, worse than usual. She's in critical condition. Broken neck, skull fracture and massive head trauma, and they don't know yet if she still has any of her powers."

Kurt collapsed into his chair, head in hands. All morning he'd been comforting distraught youngsters who'd lost their powers, fielding calls from concerned parents, and now being rushed off to England with Kitty, Nocturne, Rachel, Psylocke, and Juggernaut, to help Brian Braddock deal with problems there. He couldn't afford to spare a moment to figure out how he'd even woken up in Salem Center when he was in Zanzibar fighting the Weaponeers. And the weather was going crazy, like that scientist Dr. Pym suggested would happen with so many mutants, some of whom controlled elements and magnetism, suddenly losing their power. Snow in August? It wasn't helping. What more could go wrong? Still, to say Dr. Altheim had been through a lot lately would have been a terrible understatement. And what was having to console one more stricken soul, especially if that was Kassandra's mother? He quickly punched her number, trying not to think too hard about the potentially lethal implications of Kassandra losing her powers.

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Kassandra awoke, half expecting to feel Kurt's arms around her, perhaps fangs gently worrying her earlobe, wondering where that splitting headache and the searing, allover pain came from. "Kurt?" she murmured, surprised at how much effort it took to produce that single cracked and slurred syllable.

"So you're finally awake," said a voice that, while not Kurt's, was still comforting and familiar.

Dr. McCoy? Hank? Kassandra tried to open her still swollen eyes, only for her stomach to lurch in some combination of fear and reflex as piercing white light stabbed through her head. "Oh, mei," she moaned.

"Easy. You've been unconscious for two days. In fact, they did not anticipate that you would survive, but you apparently still at least possess your healing factor."

Still has the healing factor? Had she lost any of her powers? "What happened?"

"They said it was some explosion, in the old church in Hammer Bay. You were thrown against the wall, hard, sustaining a basilar skull fracture, as well as fractures to the craniocervical junction. A very good thing they knew I'd treated you before. They flew you in once they stabilized you, so I could have the privilege of trying to repair the damage to your spinal column. How are you feeling?"

"Hurt all over."  
"That's a good indicator that the nerve damage is healing. You should make a full recovery, then."

"So where am I?" said Kassandra.  
"Allow me to handle that," said a curt female voice. "I'm Doctor Valerie Cooper. The Office of National Emergency has taken over all mutant affairs now, and once your status is determined-"

"Status?"  
"You still scan as an active mutant, but that may be because of the transplant you got from Wolverine. Whether or not you can still control time remains to be seen, and we can only decide what more to do with you when we find out. Meanwhile, you'll be staying here."

"Where?"  
"You're back at the Institute," said Beast. "Meanwhile, is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable?"

What to do? Request that Emma or Rachel telepathically convince Kassandra her head didn't throb with an ache that shot down her spine, tore through her limbs, and knotted her stomach? Shoot her full of drugs that wouldn't do anything except make her feel worse when they'd wear off, all too quickly? Kassandra ran her tongue over her parched lips. She might not be able to keep it down, but it was worth a shot. "Water," she whispered.

"Here, allow me," said a gruff voice.  
"Careful…"  
"Yeah, yeah, I know."

Kassandra felt delicious coolness upon her lips, washing down her throat. She wished she could sit upright to take more than one infinitesimal sip at a time. And while the pain did not abate, her mind began to clear. "Logan, can we talk? Alone?"

"Well, it depends on how you define alone, kid," said Logan. "Can you open your eyes?"

Kassandra cracked one open cautiously, then the other, finding that the light, while still too bright for her liking, was a little more tolerable. She saw that Beast and Doctor Cooper had stepped back to check on some other patient. "What happened since the House of M?" she whispered, furtively.

"You remember all that?"

Kassandra would have nodded but for the halo brace that still immobilized her neck. "Yes, I do."

"Oh, damn."  
"Last I saw was all of that reality's timelines whipping around into some kind of loop. They found me at the church. It's all… all… as if none of it…Kurt and I…" Kassandra fought back the tears.

"Never happened. You two don't even smell like you'd…"  
"Where is he, anyway?" sobbed Kassandra, tears finally spilling over. "Not that I'm not glad to see you, but…"

"Yeah, I know, kid. Your mom called him and he knows, but he was ordered to England to help out over there, and I'd say that's kind of a good thing." Logan leaned in to whisper. "There are sentinels posted all over the place, supposedly to protect us. But I have to get special government clearance to go to Africa and help out 'Ro. Let me tell you, it's little better than a prison here."

"You don't need to tell me. That's precisely why I'm here," said Kassandra. "And why Kurt must not come back, though I know he's on his way anyway."

"Ya do?"  
"I don't need to check his timeline to see that. He believes his place is with the X-Men, no matter what."

"Well, yeah, there's that," said Logan, furrowing his brow, "but I was thinkin' 'bout you. He about lost his mind when your mom called. Kept his game face on as he headed off, but I could smell it. He wasn't happy, and he'll want to see ya first thing when he gets back. Something you should know, though, Little Elf. Most people don't remember a thing about what happened. Kurt included."

Kassandra blinked and swallowed hard, trying to digest the implications.

"But that doesn't mean he doesn't feel the same. I'm thinking of something Kitty said. You two wouldn't have wound up together in Wanda's magic play land if either of you didn't want it."

Kassandra wrinkled her nose. "But that would mean that you wanted to wind up with…"

"Yeah, kid," said Logan, looking somewhat embarrassed. "A redhead. Now are we gonna call Kurt and let him know how you're doing?"


	17. Chapter 17

Well, if this was the Scarlet Witch's idea of revenge, Kassandra supposed she might deserve it. She did, after all, commit treason against Lord Magnus, kill at least one subordinate, and like a total ingrate, seek to actively dismantle a reality in which she was actually happy.

"_I'm not poking around that contused cerebrum of yours just because you're entertaining regrets,_" thought Emma Frost. "_I'm hardly qualified to play confessor to you_."

"_You know why Hank needs you here, so cut that out_," Kassandra thought.

She had a point. While Kassandra no longer wore the halo brace and was allowed up and about periodically, she was by no means completely recovered. Beast wanted Emma to confirm some details about her most recent MRI and CT scan. "The imaging indicates that the characteristic developments in her hippocampus, prefrontal cortex, and suprachiasmatic nuclei have not been affected," he said pushing his glasses up the bridge of his short, broad nose, "but then, I've never had a chance to observe how the possible depowering of an extratemporal could affect the brain. Any difference might not be apparent, judging from imaging alone. Also, I will need you to check for any lingering damage that the imaging might have missed."

But Emma sensed a lot of other things in Kassandra's mind. If she were inclined to even care, she'd almost worry about the anger that simmered against her, about battling, then joining the X-Men for reasons they both knew were purely Machiavellian. Getting involved with Scott while Jean was still alive and married to him. That's right, Jean was a friend of the girl's. Suggesting they euthenize Wanda Maximoff as if she were an old dog rather than a mutant who happened to be criminally insane. That seemed to touch an especially raw nerve. And now expelling all the depowered mutants from the Institute, no matter that some, like Jubilee, had no other place to go.

"_Control your feelings, child. I need to focus._" Emma felt almost physically buffeted by the barrage of emotions and memories.

"_Quit poking through those memories then_," thought Kassandra.  
"_I figured I might see if you have any memory of what that daughter of Magneto did. It might help us figure out what to do with her. Or are you afraid I'll blackmail you with what I can see here?_" Emma thought, with a smug mental smirk.

"_I wouldn't allow you the chance_."

"_That's assuming you still can_-"  
Emma suddenly gripped her head and reeled back as Kassandra's eyelids fluttered.

"My stars and garters, what happened here?" said Beast.

"She cut me off! The little-" Emma smoothed her hair, in an attempt to regain her composure. "I don't think there's any need to fear she's lost her powers."

"However, you," said Beast to Kassandra, "do not appear to be in any condition whatsoever to be using your powers regularly. The Office of National Emergency will have to wait until I give consent before they decide what more to do with you."

"And that won't be for a long time, I take it," said Kassandra. Beast could be just as overprotective as Wolverine. He just tended to be much subtler about it.

"_And_," she broadcast this thought to Emma, "_I do remember. There's no use using Cerebra to try to find Wanda. She depowered herself along with most everyone else_."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kassandra scooted the piano bench up to position. From the time she had awakened at the Institute, her days were marked by hours of examinations and therapy that left her exhausted, and her nights by pain, insomnia, and frequent requests for Emma, or when she returned, Rachel, to telepathically put her out. At least she had the pleasure of company that was, for the most part, friendly.

She may have bristled at the injustice of everyone at the Institute being under constant surveillance. She and perhaps Emma may have deserved it. But not anyone else. Still, this was more freedom than she'd enjoyed in a long time, and she relished it as she warmed up her fingers, even as her hands, still a bit out of condition, stumbled a bit on her scales.

Then, oh, what should she play? It had been a while, and she had witnessed and experienced so much. What would most effectively convey that?

The crescendo and decrescendo of the steady rainfall of chords was what drew Kurt into the parlor. Kassandra may not have been the only one at the Institute who could plunk out a few tunes on the piano, but this sounded like her. And even after he got back from England, he hadn't seen anything like enough of her. Therapy, exhaustion, and telepathically induced sleeps on her end, and battling the death commandos trying to assassinate Rachel Grey on his hadn't exactly afforded them the quality time he was hoping they'd get. Up until now.

His skin erupted in goose bumps, and tears came to his eyes as the melody washed over him. So haunting, wistfully yearning. So melancholy. The sadness Kassandra evoked in that piece matched what he discovered was his own.

Grief for those who'd lost their powers. Concern about how the government was handling the situation. Worry about Rachel. And some other ache in his heart that he couldn't understand, but seemed to sharpen in Kassandra's presence. A reminder perhaps of a cherished dream forgotten upon waking.

He slid next to her, settling his hand on her shoulder and his tail around her waist when the piece softly concluded. Pulling her close, feeling her slip her arms around him in return, giving and receiving comfort like this just felt right. Sure, before she was sentenced and imprisoned for the incident in Montana, she had asked him to not wait for her, to feel free to see other women. And under the watchful eyes of every sentinel stationed around the Institute, nobody there was free to do much of anything anyway. Convicted criminal or regular mutant, they were all effectively prisoners. None of that mattered now. She was here.

For a long time, nothing whatsoever was said as his lips, seemingly of their own accord, sought and eventually found hers. "Sehr schön," he breathed, as he finally retreated.

"Gestimmt," said Kassandra, smiling, blinking away her own tears. "_I must admit I still enjoy your kisses._"

Kurt smiled. "_I was also talking about the piece. I don't remember hearing it before. What is it?_"

"_My own arrangement_," said Kassandra, all seriousness restored, "_of Faure's _Aprés un Reve."


End file.
